Observations
on the Nature of
Civil Liberty, the Principles of Government,
and the Justice and Policy
of the War with America.

Preface to the Fifth Edition

The favourable reception which the following Tract has met with makes me
abundant amends for the abuse it has brought upon me. I should be ill employed
were I to take much notice of this abuse: but there is one circumstance
attending it which I cannot help just mentioning. The principles on which I
have argued form the foundation of every state as far as it is free, and are
the same with those taught by Mr. Locke and all the writers on civil liberty
who have been hitherto most admired in this country. But I find with concern
that our governors chuse to decline trying by them their present measures. For,
in a pamphlet[b] which has been
circulated by government with great industry, these principles are pronounced
to be 'unnatural and wild, incompatible with practice, and the offspring of the
distempered imagination of a man who is biassed by party, and who writes to
deceive'. I must take this opportunity to add that I love quiet too well to
think of entering into a controversy with any writers, particularly nameless
ones. Conscious of good intentions and unconnected with any party, I have
endeavoured to plead the cause of general liberty and justice. And happy in
knowing this, I shall, in silence, commit myself to that candour of the public
of which I have had so much experience.

March 12th. 1776.

Our colonies in North America appear to be now determined to risk and suffer
every thing under the persuasion that Great Britain is attempting to rob them
of that liberty to which every member of society, and all civil communities,
have a natural and unalienable title. The question, therefore, whether this is
a right persuasion, is highly interesting and deserves the careful attention of
every Englishman who values liberty and wishes to avoid staining himself with
the guilt of invading it. But it is impossible to judge properly of this
question without just ideas of liberty in general, and of the nature, limits,
and principles of civil liberty in particular. The following observations on
this subject appear to me of some importance, and I cannot make myself easy
without offering them to the public at the present period, big with events of
the last consequence to this kingdom. I do this with reluctance and pain urged
by strong feelings, but at the same time checked by the consciousness that I am
likely to deliver sentiments not favourable to the present measures of that
government under which I live and to which I am a constant and zealous
well-wisher. Such, however, are my present sentiments and views, that this is a
consideration of inferior moment with me, and, as I hope never to go beyond the
bounds of decent discussion and expostulation, I flatter myself, that I shall
be able to avoid giving any person reason for offence.

The observations with which I shall begin are of a more general and abstract
nature; but being necessary to introduce what I have principally in view, I
hope they will be patiently read and considered.

Sect. I Of the Nature of Liberty in General

In order to obtain a more distinct view of the nature of liberty as such it
will be useful to consider it under the four following general divisions.

First, physical liberty; secondly, moral liberty; thirdly, religious
liberty; and fourthly, civil liberty. These heads comprehend under them all the
different kinds of liberty. And I have placed civil liberty last because I mean
to apply to it all I shall say of the other kinds of liberty.

By physical liberty I mean that principle of spontaneity, or
self-determination, which constitutes us agents, or which gives us a command
over our actions, rendering them properly ours, and not effects of the
operation of any foreign cause. Moral liberty is the power of following, in all
circumstances, our sense of right and wrong, or of acting in conformity to our
reflecting and moral principles, without being controuled by any contrary
principles. Religious liberty signifies the power of exercising, without
molestation, that mode of religion which we think best, or of making the
decisions of our own consciences respecting religious truth, the rule of our
conduct, and not any of the decisions of our fellow-men. In like manner civil
liberty is the power of a civil society or state to govern itself by its own
discretion or by laws of its own making, without being subject to the
impositions of any power in appointing and directing which the collective body
of the people have no concern and over which they have no controul.

It should be observed that, according to these definitions of the different
kinds of liberty, there is one general idea that runs through them all; I mean
the idea of self-direction, or self-government. Did our volitions originate not
with ourselves, but with some cause over which we have no power; or were we
under a necessity of always following some will different from our own, we
should want physical liberty.

In like manner, he whose perceptions of moral obligation are controuled by
his passions has lost his moral liberty, and the most common language applied
to him is that he wants self-government.

He likewise who, in religion, cannot govern himself by his convictions of
religious duty, but is obliged to receive formularies of faith, and to practise
modes of worship imposed upon him by others, wants religious liberty. And the
community also that is governed, not by itself, but by some will independent of
it, wants civil liberty.

In all these cases there is a force which stands opposed to the agent's own
will, and which, as far as it operates, produces servitude. In the first case,
this force is incompatible with the very idea of voluntary motion; and the
subject of it is a mere passive instrument which never acts, but is always
acted upon. In the second case, this force is the influence of passion getting
the better of reason, or the brute overpowering and conquering the will of the
man. In the third case, it is human authority in religion requiring conformity
to particular modes of faith and worship, and superseding private judgment. And
in the last case, it is any will distinct from that of the majority of a
community which claims a power in making laws for it and disposing of its
property.

This it is, I think, that marks the limit between liberty and slavery. As
far as, in any instance, the operation of any cause comes in to restrain the
power of self-government, so far slavery is introduced. Nor do I think that a
preciser idea than this of liberty and slavery can be formed.

I cannot help wishing I could here fix my reader's attention, and engage him
to consider carefully the dignity of that blessing to which we give the name of
liberty, according to the representation now made of it. There is not a word in
the whole compass of language which expresses so much of what is important and
excellent. It is, in every view of it, a blessing truly sacred and invaluable.
Without physical liberty, man would be a machine acted upon by mechanical
springs, having no principle of motion in himself, or command over events; and,
therefore, incapable of all merit and demerit. Without moral liberty, he is a
wicked and detestable being, subject to the tyranny of base lusts, and the
sport of every vile appetite. And without religious and civil liberty, he is a
poor and abject animal, without rights, without property, and without a
conscience, bending his neck to the yoke, and crouching to the will of every
silly creature who has the insolence to pretend to authority over him. Nothing,
therefore, can be of much consequence to us as liberty. It is the foundation of
all honour, and the chief privilege and glory of our natures.

In fixing our idea on the subject of liberty, it is of particular use to
take such an enlarged view of it as I have now given. But the immediate object
of the present enquiry being civil liberty, I will confine to it all the
subsequent observations.

Sect. II Of Civil liberty and the Principles of Government

From what has been said it is obvious that all civil government, as far as
it can be denominated free, is the creature of the people. It originates with
them. It is conducted under their direction, and has in view nothing but their
happiness. All its different forms are no more than so many different modes in
which they chuse to direct their affairs, and to secure the quiet enjoyment of
their rights. In every free state every man is his own Legislator. All taxes
are free-gifts for public services. All laws are particular provisions or
regulations established by common consent for gaining protection and safety.
And all magistrates are trustees or deputies for carrying these regulations
into execution.

Liberty, therefore, is too imperfectly denned when it is said to be 'a
government by laws, and not by men'. If the laws are made by one man, or a
junto of men in a state, and not by common consent, a government by them does
not differ from slavery. In this case it would be a contradiction in terms to
say that the state governs itself.

From hence it is obvious that civil liberty, in its most perfect degree, can
be enjoyed only in small states where every independent agent is capable of
giving his suffrage in person, and of being chosen into public offices. When a
state becomes so numerous, or when the different parts of it are removed to
such distances from one another as to render this impracticable, a diminution
of liberty necessarily arises. There are, however, in these circumstances,
methods by which such near approaches may be made to perfect liberty as shall
answer all the purposes of government, and at the same time secure every right
of human nature.

Tho' all the members of a state should not be capable of giving their
suffrages on public measures, individually and personally, they may do this by
the appointment of substitutes or representatives. They may entrust the powers
of legislation, subject to such restrictions as they shall think necessary,
with any number of delegates; and whatever can be done by such delegates within
the limits of their trust, may be considered as done by the united voice and
counsel of the community. In this method a free government may be established
in the largest state, and it is conceivable that by regulations of this kind
any number of states might be subjected to a scheme of government that would
exclude the desolations of war, and produce universal peace and order.

Let us think here of what may be practicable in this way with respect to
Europe in particular. While it continues divided, as it is at present, into a
great number of independent kingdoms whose interests are continually clashing,
it is impossible but that disputes will often arise which must end in war and
carnage. It would be no remedy to this evil to make one of these states supreme
over the rest, and to give it an absolute plenitude of power to superintend and
controul them. This would be to subject all the states to the arbitrary
discretion of one, and to establish an ignominious slavery not possible to be
long endured. It would, therefore, be a remedy worse than the disease; nor is
it possible it should be approved by any mind that has not lost every idea of
civil liberty. On the contrary, let every state, with respect to all its
internal concerns, be continued independent of all the rest, and let a general
confederacy be formed by the appointment of a senate consisting of
representatives from all the different states. Let this senate possess the
power of managing all the common concerns of the united states, and of judging
and deciding between them, as a common arbiter or umpire, in all disputes;
having, at the same time, under its direction the common force of the states to
support its decisions. In these circumstances, each separate state would be
secure against the interference of sovereign power in its private concerns,
and, therefore, would possess liberty, and at the same time it would be secure
against all oppression and insult from every neighbouring state. Thus might the
scattered force and abilities of a whole continent be gathered into one point,
all litigations settled as they rose, universal peace preserved, and nation
prevented from any more lifting up a sword against nation.

I have observed that tho' in a great state all the individuals that compose
it cannot be admitted to an immediate participation in the powers of
legislation and government, yet they may participate in these powers by a
delegation of them to a body of representatives. In this case it is evident
that the state will be still free or self-governed, and that it will be more or
less so in proportion as it is more or less fairly and adequately represented.
If the persons to whom the trust of government is committed hold their places
for short terms, if they are chosen by the unbiassed voices of a majority of
the state, and subject to their instructions, liberty will be enjoyed in its
highest degree. But if they are chosen for long terms by a part only of the
state, and if during that term they are subject to no controul from their
constituents, the very idea of liberty will be lost and the power of chusing
representatives becomes nothing but a power, lodged in a few, to chuse at
certain periods a body of masters for themselves and for the rest of the
community. And if a state is so sunk that the majority of its representatives
are elected by a handful of the meanest[2]
persons in it, whose votes are always paid for, and if also there is a higher
will on which even these mock representatives themselves depend, and that
directs their voices: in these circumstances, it will be an abuse of language
to say that the state possesses liberty. Private men, indeed, might be allowed
the exercise of liberty, as they might also under the most despotic government;
but it would be an indulgence or connivance derived from the spirit of the
rimes, or from an accidental mildness in the administration. And, rather than
be governed in such a manner, it would perhaps be better to be governed by the
will of one man without any representation, for a representation so degenerated
could answer no other end than to mislead and deceive, by disguising slavery,
and keeping up a form of liberty when the reality was lost.

Within the limits now mentioned, liberty may be enjoyed in every possible
degree, from that which is complete and perfect, to that which is merely
nominal; according as the people have more or less of a share in government,
and of a controuling power over the persons by whom it is administered.

In general, to be free is to be guided by one's own will; and to be guided
by the will of another is the characteristic of servitude. This is particularly
applicable to political liberty. That state, I have observed, is free which is
guided by its own will, or (which comes to the same) by the will of an assembly
of representatives appointed by itself and accountable to itself. And every
state that is not so governed, or in which a body of men representing the
people make not an essential part of the legislature, is in slavery. In order
to form the most perfect constitution of government, there may be the best
reasons for joining to such a body of representatives an hereditary council,
consisting of men of the first rank in the state, with a supreme executive
magistrate as the head of all. This will form useful checks in a legislature,
and contribute to give it vigour, union, and dispatch, without infringing
liberty; for, as long as that part of a government which represents the people
is a fair representation, and also has a negative on all public measures,
together with the sole power of imposing taxes and originating supplies, the
essentials of liberty will be preserved. We make it our boast in this country
that this is our own constitution. I will not say with how much reason.

Of such liberty as I have now described, it is impossible there should be an
excess. Government is an institution for the benefit of the people governed,
which they have the power to model as they please; and to say that they can
have too much of this power, is to say that there ought to be a power in the
state superior to that which gives it being, and from which all jurisdiction in
it is derived. Licentiousness, which has been commonly mentioned, as an extreme
of liberty, is indeed its opposite. It is government by the will of rapacious
individuals in opposition to the will of the community made known and declared
in the laws. A free state, at the same time that it is free itself, makes all
its members free by excluding licentiousness, and guarding their persons and
property and good name against insult. It is the end of all just government, at
the same time that it secures the liberty of the public against foreign injury,
to secure the liberty of the individual against private injury. I do not,
therefore, think it strictly just to say that it belongs to the nature of
government to entrench on private liberty. It ought never to do this, except as
far as the exercise of private liberty encroaches on the liberties of others.
That is, it is licentiousness it restrains and liberty itself only when used to
destroy liberty.

It appears from hence that licentiousness and despotism are more nearly
allied than is commonly imagined. They are both alike inconsistent with liberty
and the true end of government; nor is there any other difference between them
than that the one is the licentiousness of great men, and the other the
licentiousness of little men; or that, by the one, the persons and property of
a people are subject to outrage and invasion from a king or a lawless body of
grandees; and that, by the other, they are subject to the like outrage from a
lawless mob. In avoiding one of these evils, mankind have often run into the
other. But all well constituted governments guard equally against both. Indeed
of the two, the last is, on several accounts, the least to be dreaded and has
done the least mischief. It may be truly said that if licentiousness has
destroyed its thousands, despotism has destroyed its millions. The former,
having little power and no system to support it, necessarily finds its own
remedy; and a people soon get out of the tumult and anarchy attending it. But a
despotism, wearing the form of government and being armed with its force, is an
evil not to be conquered without dreadful struggles. It goes on from age to
age, debasing the human faculties, levelling all distinctions, and preying on
the rights and blessings of society. It deserves to be added that in a state
disturbed by licentiousness, there is an animation which is favourable to the
human mind and which puts it upon exerting its powers; but in a state
habituated to a despotism, all is still and torpid. A dark and savage tyranny
stifles every effort of genius, and the mind loses all its spirit and dignity.

Before I proceed to what I have farther in view, I will observe that the
account now given of the principles of public liberty and the nature of an
equal and free government shews what judgment we should form of that
omnipotence, which, it has been said, must belong to every government as such.
Great stress has been laid on this, but most unreasonably. Government, as has
been before observed, is, in the very nature of it, a trust, and all its powers
a delegation for gaining particular ends. This trust may be misapplied and
abused. It may be employed to defeat the very ends for which it was instituted,
and to subvert the very rights which it ought to protect. A parliament, for
instance, consisting of a body of representatives, chosen for a limited period
to make laws and to grant money for public services, would forfeit its
authority by making itself perpetual, or even prolonging its own duration; by
nominating its own members; by accepting bribes; or subjecting itself to any
kind of foreign influence. This would convert a parliament into a conclave or
junto of self-created tools; and a state that has lost its regard to its own
rights, so far as to submit to such a breach of trust in its rulers, is
enslaved. Nothing, therefore, can be more absurd than the doctrine which some
have taught with respect to the omnipotence of parliaments. They possess no
power beyond the limits of the trust for the execution of which they were
formed. If they contradict this trust, they betray their constituents and
dissolve themselves. All delegated power must be subordinate and limited. If
omnipotence can, with any sense, be ascribed to a legislature, it must be
lodged where all legislative authority originates; that is, in the people. For
their sakes government is instituted, and theirs is the only real omnipotence.

I am sensible that all I have been saying would be very absurd, were the
opinions just which some have maintained concerning the origin of government.
According to these opinions, government is not the creature of the people, or
the result of a convention between them and their rulers; but there are certain
men who possess in themselves, independently of the will of the people, a right
of governing them, which they derive from the Deity. This doctrine has been
abundantly refuted by many excellent writers. It is a doctrine which avowedly
subverts civil liberty and which represents mankind as a body of vassals,
formed to descend like cattle from one set of owners to another, who have an
absolute dominion over them. It is a wonder that those who view their species
in a light so humiliating should ever be able to think of themselves without
regret and shame. The intention of these observations is not to oppose such
sentiments, but, taking for granted the reasonableness of civil liberty, to
shew wherein it consists, and what distinguishes it from its contrary. And, in
considering this subject, as it has been now treated, it is unavoidable to
reflect on the excellency of a free government and its tendency to exalt the
nature of man. Every member of a free state, having his property secure and
knowing himself his own governor, possesses a consciousness of dignity in
himself and feels incitements to emulation and improvement to which the
miserable slaves of arbitrary power must be utter strangers. In such a state
all the springs of action have room to operate and the mind is stimulated to
the noblest exertions. But to be obliged from our birth to look up to a
creature no better than ourselves as the master of our fortunes, and to receive
his will as our law — what can be more humiliating? What elevated ideas
can enter a mind in such a situation? Agreeably to this remark, the subjects of
free states have, in all ages, been most distinguished for genius and
knowledge. Liberty is the soil where the arts and sciences have flourished and
the more free a state has been, the more have the powers of the human mind been
drawn forth into action, and the greater number of brave men has it produced.
With what lustre do the antient free states of Greece shine in the annals of
the world? How different is that country now, under the great Turk? The
difference between a country inhabited by men and by brutes, is not greater.

These are reflexions which should be constantly present to every mind in
this country. As moral liberty is the prime blessing of man in his private
capacity, so is civil liberty in his public capacity. There is nothing that
requires more to be watched than power. There is nothing that ought to be
opposed with a more determined resolution than its encroachments. Sleep in a
state, as Montesquieu says, is always followed by slavery.

The people of this kingdom were once warmed by such sentiments as these.
Many a sycophant of power have they sacrificed. Often have they fought and bled
in the cause of liberty. But that time seems to be going. The fair inheritance
of liberty left us by our ancestors, many of us are willing to resign. An
abandoned venality, the inseparable companion of dissipation and extravagance,
has poisoned the springs of public virtue among us; and should any events ever
arise that should render the same opposition necessary that took place in the
times of King Charles the First and James the Second, I am afraid all that is
valuable to us would be lost. The terror of the standing army, the danger of
the public funds, and the all-corrupting influence of the treasury, would
deaden all zeal and produce general acquiescence and servility.

Sect. III Of the Authority of One Country over Another

From the nature and principles of civil liberty, as they have been now
explained, it is an immediate and necessary inference that no one community can
have any power over the property or legislation of another community which is
not incorporated with it by a just and adequate representation. Then only, it
has been shewn, is a state free when it is governed by its own will. But a
country that is subject to the legislature of another country in which it has
no voice, and over which it has no controul, cannot be said to be governed by
its own will. Such a country, therefore, is in a state of slavery. And it
deserves to be particularly considered that such a slavery is worse, on several
accounts, than any slavery of private men to one another, or of kingdoms to
despots within themselves. Between one state and another there is none of that
fellow-feeling that takes place between persons in private life. Being detached
bodies that never see one another, and residing perhaps in different quarters
of the globe, the state that governs cannot be a witness to the sufferings
occasioned by its oppressions; or a competent judge of the circumstances and
abilities of the people who are governed. They must also have in a great degree
separate interests; and the more the one is loaded the more the other may be
eased. The infamy likewise of oppression, being in such circumstances shared
among a multitude, is not likely to be much felt or regarded. On all these
accounts there is, in the case of one country subjugated to another, little or
nothing to check rapacity; and the most flagrant injustice and cruelty may be
practised without remorse or pity. I will add that it is particularly difficult
to shake off a tyranny of this kind. A single despot, if a people are unanimous
and resolute, may be soon subdued. But a despotic state is not easily subdued,
and a people subject to it cannot emancipate themselves without entering into a
dreadful and, perhaps, very unequal contest.

I cannot help observing farther, that the slavery of a people to internal
despots may be qualified and limited; but I don't see what can limit the
authority of one state over another. The exercise of power in this case can
have no other measure than discretion, and, therefore, must be indefinite and
absolute.

Once more, it should be considered that the government of one country by
another can only be opposed by a military force, and, without such a support
must be destitute of all weight and efficiency.

This will be best explained by putting the following case. There is, let us
suppose, in a province subject to the sovereignty of a distant state, a
subordinate legislature consisting of an assembly chosen by the people; a
council chosen by that assembly; and a governor appointed by the sovereign
state, and paid by the province. There are, likewise, judges and other
officers, appointed and paid in the same manner, for administering justice
agreeably to the laws by the verdicts of juries fairly chosen.

This forms a constitution seemingly free, by giving the people a share in
their own government and some check on their rulers. But, while there is a
higher legislative power to the controul of which such a constitution is
subject, it does not itself possess liberty, and therefore cannot be of any use
as a security to liberty; nor is it possible that it should be of long
duration. Laws offensive to the province will be enacted by the sovereign
state. The legislature of the province will remonstrate against them. The
magistrates will not execute them. Juries will not convict upon them, and,
consequently, like the Pope's bulls which once governed Europe, they will
become nothing but forms and empty sounds to which no regard will be shewn. In
order to remedy this evil and to give efficiency to its government, the supreme
state will naturally be led to withdraw the governor, the council, and the
judges from the controul of the province by making them entirely dependent on
itself for their pay and continuance in office, as well as for their
appointment. It will also alter the mode of chusing juries on purpose to bring
them more under its influence. And in some cases, under the pretence of the
impossibility of gaining an impartial trial where government is resisted, it
will perhaps ordain that offenders shall be removed from the province to be
tried within its own territories. And it may even go so far in this kind of
policy as to endeavour to prevent the effects of discontents by forbidding all
meetings and associations of the people except at such times, and for such
particular purposes, as shall be permitted them.

Thus will such a province be exactly in the same state that Britain would be
in were our first executive magistrate, our House of Lords, and our judges,
nothing but the instruments of a sovereign democratical power; were our juries
nominated by that power; or were we liable to be transported to a distant
country to be tried for offences committed here; and restrained from calling
any meetings, consulting about any grievances, or associating for any purposes,
except when leave should be given us by a Lord Lieutenant or Viceroy.

It is certain that this is a state of oppression which no country could
endure, and to which it would be vain to expect, that any people should submit
an hour without an armed force to compel them.

The late transactions in Massachusett's Bay are a perfect exemplification of
what I have now said. The government of Great Britain in that province has gone
on exactly in the train I have described; till at last it became necessary to
station troops there not amenable to the civil power; and all terminated in a
government by the sword. And such, if a people are not sunk below the character
of men, will be the issue of all government in similar circumstances.

It may be asked, 'Are there not causes by which one state may acquire a
rightful authority over another, though not consolidated by an adequate
representation?' I answer that there are no such causes. All the causes to
which such an effect can be ascribed are conquest, compact, or obligations
conferred.

Much has been said of the right of conquest; and history contains little
more than accounts of kingdoms reduced by it under the dominion of other
kingdoms, and of the havock it has made among mankind. But the authority
derived from hence, being founded on violence, is never rightful. The Roman
Republic was nothing but a faction against the general liberties of the world;
and had no more right to give law to the provinces subject to it than thieves
have to the property they seize, or to the houses into which they break. Even
in the case of a just war undertaken by one people to defend itself against the
oppressions of another people, conquest gives only a right to an
indemnification for the injury which occasioned the war and a reasonable
security against future injury.

Neither can any state acquire such an authority over other states in virtue
of any compacts or cessions. This is a case in which compacts are not binding.
Civil liberty is, in this respect, on the same footing with religious liberty.
As no people can lawfully surrender their religious liberty by giving up their
right of judging for themselves in religion, or by allowing any human beings to
prescribe to them what faith they shall embrace, or what mode of worship they
shall practise, so neither can any civil societies lawfully surrender their
civil liberty by giving up to any extraneous jurisdiction their power of
legislating for themselves and disposing their property. Such a cession, being
inconsistent with the unalienable rights of human nature, would either not bind
at all, or bind only the individuals who made it. This is a blessing which no
one generation of men can give up for another, and which, when lost, a people
have always a right to resume. Had our ancestors in this country been so mad as
to have subjected themselves to any foreign community, we could not have been
under any obligation to continue in such a state. And all the nations now in
the world who, in consequence of the tameness and folly of their predecessors,
are subject to arbitrary power have a right to emancipate themselves as soon as
they can.

If neither conquest nor compact can give such an authority, much less can
any favours received or any services performed by one state for another. Let
the favour received be what it will, liberty is too dear a price for it. A
state that has been obliged is not, therefore, bound to be enslaved. It ought,
if possible, to make an adequate return for the services done to it, but to
suppose that it ought to give up the power of governing itself and the disposal
of its property, would be to suppose, that, in order to show its gratitude, it
ought to part with the power of ever afterwards exercising gratitude. How much
has been done by this kingdom for Hanover? But no one will say that on this
account we have a right to make the laws of Hanover; or even to draw a single
penny from it without its own consent.

After what has been said, it will, I am afraid, be trifling to apply the
preceding arguments to the case of different communities which are considered
as different parts of the same empire. But there are reasons which render it
necessary for me to be explicit in making the application.

What I mean here is just to point out the difference of situation between
communities forming an empire; and particular bodies or classes of men forming
different parts of a kingdom. Different communities forming an empire have no
connexions which produce a necessary reciprocation of interests between them.
They inhabit different districts and are governed by different legislatures. On
the contrary, the different classes of men within a kingdom are all placed on
the same ground. Their concerns and interests are the same, and what is done to
one pan must affect all. These are situations totally different and a
constitution of government that may be consistent with liberty in one of them
may be entirely inconsistent with it in the other. It is, however, certain
that, even in the last of these situations, no one part ought to govern the
rest. In order to a fair and equal government, there ought to be a fair and
equal representation of all that are governed; and as far as this is wanting in
any government, it deviates from the principles of liberty, and becomes unjust
and oppressive. But in the circumstances of different communities, all this
holds with unspeakably more force. The government of a part in this case
becomes complete tyranny, and subjection to it becomes complete slavery.

But ought there not, it is asked, to exist somewhere in an empire a supreme
legislative authority over the whole, or a power to controul and bind all the
different states of which it consists? This enquiry has been already answered.
The truth is, that such a supreme controuling power ought to exist nowhere
except in such a senate or body of delegates as that described in page 25; and
that the authority or supremacy of even this senate ought to be limited to the
common concerns of the Empire. I think I have proved that the fundamental
principles of liberty necessarily require this.

In a word, an empire is a collection of states or communities united by some
common bond or tye. If these states have each of them free constitutions of
government, and, with respect to taxation and internal legislation, are
independent of the other states, but united by compacts, or alliances, or
subjection to a great council, representing the whole, or to one monarch
entrusted with the supreme executive power; in these circumstances the empire
will be an empire of freemen. If, on the contrary, like the different provinces
subject to the Grand Seignior, none of the states possess any independent
legislative authority, but are all subject to an absolute monarch whose will is
their law, then is the empire an empire of slaves. If one of the states is
free, but governs by its will all the other states; then is the empire, like
that of the Romans in the times of the Republic, an empire consisting of one
state free, and the rest in slavery. Nor does it make any more difference in
this case that the governing state is itself free than it does in the case of a
kingdom subject to a despot that this despot is himself free. I have before
observed that this only makes the slavery worse. There is, in the one case, a
chance that in the quick succession of despots a good one will sometimes arise.
But bodies of men continue the same and have generally proved the most
unrelenting of all tyrants.

A great writer before[3] quoted,
observes of the Roman Empire, that while liberty was at the center, tyranny
prevailed in the distant provinces; that such as were free under it were
extremely so, while those who were slaves groaned under the extremity of
slavery; and that the same events that destroyed the liberty of the former,
gave liberty to the latter.

The liberty of the Romans, therefore, was only an additional calamity to the
provinces governed by them; and though it might have been said of the citizens
of Rome, that they were the 'freest members of any civil society in the known
world', yet of the subjects of Rome, it must have been said that they were the
completest slaves in the known world. How remarkable is it that this very
people, once the freest of mankind, but at the same time the most proud and
tyrannical, should become at last the most contemptible and abject slaves that
ever existed?

Part II

In the foregoing disquisitions, I have, from one leading principle, deduced
a number of consequences that seem to me incapable of being disputed. I have
meant that they should be applied to the great question between this kingdom
and the colonies which has occasioned the present war with them.

It is impossible but my readers must have been all along making this
application; and if they still think that the claims of this kingdom are
reconcileable to the principles of true liberty and legitimate government, I am
afraid, that nothing I shall farther say will have any effect on their
judgments. I wish, however, they would have the patience and candour to go with
me and grant me a hearing some time longer.

Though clearly decided in my own judgment on this subject, I am inclined to
make great allowances for the different judgments of others. We have been so
used to speak of the colonies as our colonies, and to think of them as
in a state of subordination to us, and as holding their existence in America
only for our use, that it is no wonder the prejudices of many are alarmed when
they find a different doctrine maintained. The meanest person among us is
disposed to look upon himself as having a body of subjects in America, and to
be offended at the denial of his right to make laws for them, though perhaps he
does not know what colour they are of, or what language they talk. Such are the
natural prejudices of this country. But the time is coming, I hope, when the
unreasonableness of them will be seen, and more just sentiments prevail.

Before I proceed, I beg it may be attended to that I have chosen to try this
question by the general principles of civil liberty; and not by the practice of
former times; or by the charters granted the colonies. The arguments for them,
drawn from these last topics, appear to me greatly to outweigh the arguments
against them. But I wish to have this question brought to a higher test and
surer issue. The question with all liberal enquirers ought to be, not what
jurisdiction over them precedents, statutes and charters give, but what reason
and equity, and the rights of humanity give. This is, in truth, a question
which no kingdom has ever before had occasion to agitate. The case of a free
country branching itself out in the manner Britain has done, and sending to a
distant world colonies which have there, from small beginnings and under free
legislatures of their own, increased and formed a body of powerful states,
likely soon to become superior to the parent state. This is a case which is new
in the history of mankind, and it is extremely improper to judge of it by the
rules of any narrow and partial policy, or to consider it on any other ground
than the general one of reason and justice. Those who will be candid enough to
judge on this ground, and who can divest themselves of national prejudices,
will not, I fancy, remain long unsatisfied. But alas! matters are gone too far.
The dispute probably must be settled another way, and the sword alone, I am
afraid, is now to determine what the rights of Britain and America are.
Shocking situation! Detested be the measures which have brought us into it:
and, if we are endeavouring to enforce injustice, cursed will be the war. A
retreat, however, is not yet impracticable. The duty we owe our gracious
sovereign obliges us to rely on his disposition to stay the sword, and to
promote the happiness of all the different parts of the empire at the head of
which he is placed. With some hopes, therefore, that it may not be too late to
reason on this subject, I will, in the following sections, enquire what the war
with America is in the following respects.

1. In respect of Justice.

2. The principles of the constitution.

3. In respect of policy and humanity.

4. The Honour of the Kingdom.

And, lastly, the probability of succeeding in it.

Sect. I Of the Justice of the War with America

The enquiry, whether the war with the colonies is a just war, will be best
determined by stating the power over them, which it is the end of the war to
maintain: and this cannot be better done, than in the words of an act of
parliament, made on purpose to define it. That act, it is well known, declares,
'That this kingdom has power, and of right ought to have power to make laws and
statutes to bind the colonies, and people of America, in all cases
whatever'.[c] Dreadful power
indeed! I defy anyone to express slavery in stronger language. It is the same
with declaring 'that we have a right to do with them what we please'. I will
not waste my time by applying to such a claim any of the preceding arguments.
If my reader does not feel more in this case, than words can express, all
reasoning must be vain.

But, probably, most persons will be for using milder language; and for
saying no more than that the united legislatures of England and Scotland have
of right power to tax the colonies, and a supremacy of legislature over
America. But this comes to the same. If it means anything, it means that the
property and the legislations of the colonies are subject to the absolute
discretion of Great Britain, and ought of right to be so. The nature of the
thing admits of no limitation. The colonies can never be admitted to be judges
how far the authority over them in these cases shall extend. This would be to
destroy it entirely. If any part of their property is subject to our
discretion, the whole must be so. If we have a right to interfere at all in
their internal legislations, we have a right to interfere as far as we think
proper. It is self-evident that this leaves them nothing they can call their
own. And what is it that can give to any people such a supremacy over other
people? I have already examined the principal answers which have been given to
this enquiry. But it will not be amiss in this place to go over some of them
again.

It has been urged, that such a right must be lodged somewhere, 'in order to
preserve the unity of the British Empire'.

Pleas of this sort have, in all ages, been used to justify tyranny. They
have in religion given rise to numberless oppressive claims and slavish
hierarchies. And in the Romish communion, particularly, it is well known that
the Pope claims the tide and powers of the supreme head on earth of the
Christian church in order to preserve its unity. With respect to the British
Empire nothing can be more preposterous than to endeavour to maintain its unity
by setting up such a claim. This is a method of establishing unity which, like
the similar method in religion, can produce nothing but discord and mischief.
The truth is that a common relation to one supreme executive head, an exchange
of kind offices, types of interest and affection, and compacts, are sufficient
to give the British Empire all the unity that is necessary. But if not —
if in order to preserve its unity, one half of it must be entrusted to the
other half, let it, in the name of God, want unity.

Much has been said of 'the superiority of the British state'. But what gives
us our superiority? Is it our wealth? This never confers real dignity. On the
contrary its effect is always to debase, intoxicate, and corrupt. Is it the
number of our people? The colonies will soon be equal to us in number. Is it
our knowledge and virtue? They are probably equally knowing and more virtuous.
There are names among them that will not stoop to any names among the
philosophers and politicians of this island.

But we are the parent state. These are the magic words which have fascinated
and misled us. The English came from Germany. Does that give the German states
a right to tax us? Children, having no property and being incapable of guiding
themselves, the author of nature has committed the care of them to their
parents, and subjected them to their absolute authority. But there is a period
when having acquired property and a capacity of judging for themselves, they
become independent agents; and when, for this reason, the authority of their
parents ceases, and becomes nothing but the respect and influence due to
benefactors. Supposing, therefore, that the order of nature in establishing the
relation between parents and children ought to have been the rule of our
conduct to the colonies, we should have been gradually relaxing our authority
as they grew up. But, like mad parents, we have done the contrary; and, at the
very time when our authority should have been most relaxed, we have carried it
to the greatest extent and exercised it with the greatest rigour. No wonder
then that they have turned upon us, and obliged us to remember that they are
not children.

'But we have', it is said, 'protected them and run deeply in debt on their
account.' The full answer to this has been already given, Will any one say that
all we have done for them has not been more on our own account than on theirs?
But suppose the contrary. Have they done nothing for us? Have they made no
compensation for the protection they have received? Have they not helped us to
pay our taxes, to support our poor, and to bear the burthen of our debts, by
taking from us, at our own price, all the commodities with which we can supply
them? Have they not, for our advantage, submitted to many restraints in
acquiring property? Must they likewise resign to us the disposal of that
property? Has not their exclusive trade with us been for many years one of the
chief sources of our wealth and power? In all our wars have they not fought by
our side, and contributed much to our success? In the last war, particularly,
it is well known that they ran themselves deeply in debt; and that the
Parliament thought it necessary to grant them considerable sums annually as
compensations for going beyond their abilities in assisting us. And in this
course would they have continued for many future years; perhaps, for ever. In
short, were an accurate account stated, it is by no means certain which side
would appear to be most indebted. When asked as freemen they have hitherto
seldom discovered any reluctance in giving. But, in obedience to a demand and
with the bayonet at their breasts, they will give us nothing but blood.

It is farther said, 'that the land on which they settled was ours'. But how
came it to be ours? If sailing along a coast can give a right to a country,
then might the people of Japan become, as soon as they please, the proprietors
of Britain. Nothing can be more chimerical than property founded on such a
reason. If the land on which the colonies first settled had any proprietors,
they were the natives. The greatest part of it they bought of the natives. They
have since cleared and cultivated it; and, without any help from us, converted
a wilderness into fruitful and pleasant fields. It is, therefore, now on a
double account their property, and no power on earth can have any right to
disturb them in the possession of it, or to take from them, without their
consent, any part of its produce.

But let it be granted that the land was ours. Did they not settle upon it
under the faith of charters which promised them the enjoyment of all the rights
of Englishmen, and allowed them to tax themselves, and to be governed by
legislatures of their own, similar to ours? These charters were given them by
an authority which at the time was thought competent; and they have been
rendered sacred by an acquiescence on our part for near a century. Can it then
be wondered at that the colonies should revolt when they found their charters
violated, and an attempt made to force innovations upon them by famine and the
sword? But I lay no stress on charters. They derive their rights from a higher
source. It is inconsistent with common sense to imagine that any people would
ever think of settling in a distant country, on any such condition, as that the
people from whom they withdrew, should for ever be masters of their property,
and have power to subject them to any modes of government they pleased. And had
there been express stipulations to this purpose in all the charters of the
colonies, they would, in my opinion, be no more bound by them, than if it had
been stipulated with them, that they should go naked, or expose themselves to
the incursions of wolves and tigers.

The defective state of the representation of this kingdom has been farther
pleaded to prove our right to tax America. We submit to a parliament that does
not represent us, and therefore they ought. How strange an argument is this? It
is saying we want liberty, and, therefore, they ought to want it. Suppose it
true, that they are indeed contending for a better constitution of government,
and more liberty than we enjoy: ought this to make us angry? Who is there that
does not see the danger to which this country is exposed? Is it generous,
because we are in a sink, to endeavour to draw them into it? Ought we not
rather to wish earnestly that there may at least be one free country left upon
earth to which we may fly, when venality, luxury, and vice have completed the
ruin of liberty here?

It is, however, by no means true that America has no more right to be
exempted from taxation by the British Parliament, than Britain itself. Here,
all freeholders and burgesses in boroughs are represented. There, not one
freeholder or any other person is represented. Here the aids granted by the
represented part of the kingdom must be proportionably paid by themselves; and
the laws they make for others, they at the same time make for themselves.
There, the aids they would grant would not be paid, but received, by
themselves; and the laws they made would be made for others only. In short, the
relation of one country to another country, whose representatives have the
power of taxing it (and of appropriating the money raised by the taxes) is much
the same with the relation of a country to a single despot, or a body of
despots within itself, invested with the like power. In both cases, the people
taxed and those who tax have separate interests, nor can there be any thing to
check oppression, besides either the abilities of the people taxed, or the
humanity of the taxers. But indeed I can never hope to convince that person of
any thing, who does not see an essential difference between the two cases now
mentioned; or between the circumstances of individuals, and classes of men,
making parts of a community imperfectly represented in the legislature that
governs it; and the circumstances of a whole community, in a distant world, not
at all represented.

But enough has been said by others on this point; nor is it possible for me
to throw any new light upon it. To finish, therefore, what I meant to offer
under this head, I must beg that the following considerations may be
particularly attended to.

The question now between us and the colonies is whether in respect of
taxation and internal legislation, they are bound to be subject to the
jurisdiction of this kingdom: or, in other words, whether the British
Parliament has or has not of right a power to dispose of their property, and to
model as it pleases their governments? To this supremacy over them, we say, we
are entitled; and in order to maintain it, we have begun the present war. Let
me here enquire,

First, whether, if we have now this supremacy, we shall not be equally
entitled to it in any future time? They are now but little short of half our
number. To this number they have grown from a small body of original settlers
by a very rapid increase. The probability is that they will go on to increase,
and that, in 50 or 60 years, they will be double our number and form a mighty
empire, consisting of a variety of states, all equal or superior to ourselves
in all the arts and accomplishments which give dignity and happiness to human
life. In that period, will they be still bound to acknowledge that supremacy
over them which we now claim? Can there be any person who will assert this, or
whose mind does not revolt at the idea of a vast continent holding all that is
valuable to it at the discretion of a handful of people on the other side of
the Atlantic? But if, at that period, this would be unreasonable; what makes it
otherwise now? Draw the line if you can. But there is a still greater
difficulty.

Britain is now, I will suppose, the seat of liberty and virtue; and its
legislature consists of a body of able and independent men who govern with
wisdom and justice. The time may come when all will be reversed: when its
excellent constitution of government will be subverted: when, pressed by debts
and taxes, it will be greedy to draw to itself an increase of revenue from
every distant province, in order to ease its own burdens. When the influence of
the crown, strengthened by luxury and an universal profligacy of manners, will
have tainted every heart, broken down every fence of liberty, and rendered us a
nation of tame and contented vassals: when a general election will be nothing
but a general auction of boroughs; and when the Parliament, the Grand Council
of the nation and once the faithful guardian of the state and a terror to evil
ministers, will be degenerated into a body of sycophants, dependent and venal,
always ready to confirm any measures, and little more than a public court for
registering royal edicts. Such, it is possible, may, some time or other, be the
state of Great Britain. What will, at that period, be the duty of the colonies?
Will they be still bound to unconditional submission? Must they always continue
an appendage to our government and follow it implicitly through every change
that can happen to it? Wretched condition, indeed, of millions of freemen as
good as ourselves. Will you say that we now govern equitably, and that there is
no danger of any such revolution? Would to God this were true. But will you not
always say the same? Who shall judge whether we govern equitably or not? Can
you give the colonies any security that such a period will never come? Once
more, if we have indeed that power which we claim over the legislations, and
internal rights of the Colonies, may we not, whenever we please, subject them
to the arbitrary power of the crown? I do not mean that this would be a
disadvantageous change, for I have before observed that if a people are to be
subject to an external power over which they have no command, it is better that
power should be lodged in the hands of one man than of a multitude. But many
persons think otherwise and such ought to consider that, if this would be a
calamity, the condition of the Colonies must be deplorable. 'A government by
King, Lords, and Commons, (it has been said) is the perfection of government',
and so it is when the Commons are a just representation of the people and when
also it is not extended to any distant people or communities not represented.
But if this is the best, a government by a king only must be the worst, and
every claim implying a right to establish such a government among any people
must be unjust and cruel. It is self-evident that by claiming a right to alter
the constitutions of the Colonies, according to our discretion, we claim this
power. And it is a power that we have thought fit to exercise in one of our
Colonies and that we have attempted to exercise in another. Canada, according
to the late extension of its limits, is a country almost as large as half
Europe, and it may possibly come in time to be filled with British subjects.
The Quebec Act[d] makes the king
of Great Britain a despot over all that country. In the province of
Massachuset's Bay the same thing had been attempted and begun.

The act for better regulating their government,[e] passed at the same time with the Quebec
Act, gives the king the right of appointing, and removing at his pleasure, the
members of one part of the legislature; alters the mode of chusing juries, on
purpose to bring it more under the influence of the king; and takes away from
the province the power of calling any meetings of the people without the king's
consent. The judges, likewise, have been made dependent on the king for their
nomination and pay and continuance in office. If all this is no more than we
have a right to do, may we not go on to abolish the house of representatives,
to destroy all trials by juries, and to give up the province absolutely and
totally to the will of the king? May we not even establish Popery in the
province, as has been lately done in Canada, leaving the support of
Protestantism to the king's discretion? Can there be any Englishmen who, were
it his own case, would not sooner lose his heart's blood than yield to claims
so pregnant with evils and destructive to every thing that can distinguish a
freeman from a slave?

I will take this opportunity to add that what I have now said suggests a
consideration that demonstrates on how different a footing the Colonies are
with respect to our government from particular bodies of men within the kingdom
who happen not to be represented. Here, it is impossible that the represented
part should subject the unrepresented part to arbitrary power without including
themselves. But in the Colonies it is not impossible. We know that it has been
done.

Sect. II Whether the War with America is Justified by the Principles of the
Constitution

I have proposed, in the next place, to examine the war with the Colonies by
the principles of the constitution. I know that it is common to say that we are
now maintaining the constitution in America. If this means that we are
endeavouring to establish our own constitution of government there, it is by no
means true, nor, were it true, would it be right. They have chartered
governments of their own, with which they are pleased and which, if any power
on earth may change without their consent, that power may likewise, if it
thinks proper, deliver them over to the Grand Seignior. Suppose the colonies of
France had, by compacts, enjoyed for many years free governments open to all
the world, under which they had grown and flourished; what should we think of
that kingdom, were it to attempt to destroy their governments and to force upon
them its own mode of government? Should we not applaud any zeal they discovered
in repelling such an injury? But the truth is, in the present instance, that we
are not maintaining but violating our own constitution in America. The essence
of our constitution consists in its independency. There is in this case no
difference between subjection and annihilation. Did, therefore, the Colonies
possess governments perfectly the same with ours, the attempt to subject them
to ours would be an attempt to ruin them. A free government loses its nature
from the moment it becomes liable to be commanded or altered by any superior
power.

But I intended here principally to make the following observation. The
fundamental principle of our government is, 'the right of a people to give and
grant their own money'. It is of no consequence, in this case, whether we enjoy
this right in a proper manner or not. Most certainly we do not. It is, however,
the principle on which our government, as a free government, is founded. The
spirit of the constitution gives it us and, however imperfectly enjoyed, we
glory in it as our first and greatest blessing. It was an attempt to encroach
upon this right, in a trifling instance, that produced the civil war in the
reign of Charles the First. Ought not our brethren in America to enjoy this
right as well as ourselves? Do the principles of the constitution give it us,
but deny it to them? Or can we, with any decency, pretend that when we give to
the king their money, we give them our own? What difference does it make that
in the time of Charles the First the attempt to take away this right was made
by one man; but that, in the case of America it is made by a body of men?

In a word, this is a war undertaken not only against the principles of our
own constitution, but on purpose to destroy other similar constitutions in
America, and to substitute in their room a military force. It is, therefore, a
gross and flagrant violation of the constitution.

Sect. III Of the Policy of the War with America

In writing the present section, I enter upon a subject of the last
importance, on which much has been said by other writers with great force, and
in the ablest manner. But I am not willing to omit any topic which I think of
great consequence, merely because it has already been discussed. And, with
respect to this in particular, it will, I believe, be found that some of the
observations on which I shall insist have not been sufficiently attended to.

The object of this war has been often enough declared to be 'maintaining the
supremacy of this country over the colonies'. I have already enquired how far
reason and justice, the principles of liberty, and the rights of humanity,
entitle us to this supremacy. Setting aside, therefore, now all considerations
of this kind, I would observe that this supremacy is to be maintained either
merely for its own sake or for the sake of some public interest connected with
it and dependent upon it. If for its own sake, the only object of the war is
the extension of dominion, and its only motive is the lust of power. All
government, even within a state, becomes tyrannical as far as it is a needless
and wanton exercise of power, or is carried farther than is absolutely
necessary to preserve the peace and to secure the safety of the state. This is
what an excellent writer [Jonathan Shipley] calls 'governing too
much'[f] and its effect must
always be, weakening government by rendering it contemptible and odious.
Nothing can be of more importance in governing distant provinces and adjusting
the clashing interests of different societies than attention to this remark. In
these circumstances it is particularly necessary to make a sparing use of power
in order to preserve power. Happy would it have been for Great Britain, had
this been remembered by those who have lately conducted its affairs. But our
policy has been of another kind. At the period when our authority should have
been most concealed, it has been brought most in view and by a progression of
violent measures, every one of which has increased distress, we have given the
world reason to conclude that we are acquainted with no other method of
governing than by force. What a shocking mistake! If our object is power we
should have known better how to use it, and our rulers should have considered
that freemen will always revolt at the sight of a naked sword, and that the
complicated affairs of a great kingdom, holding in subordination to it a
multitude of distant communities, all jealous of their rights and warmed with
spirits as high as our own, require not only the most skilful but the most
cautious and tender management. The consequences of a different management we
are now feeling. We see ourselves driven among rocks and in danger of being
lost.

The following reasons make it too probable that the present contest with
America is a contest for power only, abstracted from all the advantages
connected with it.

First, there is a love of power inherent in human nature, and it cannot be
uncharitable to suppose that the nation in general, and the cabinet in
particular, are too likely to be influenced by it. What can be more flattering
than to look across the Atlantic, and to see in the boundless continent of
America increasing millions whom we have a right to order as we please, who
hold their property at our disposal, and who have no other law than our will?
With what complacency have we been used to talk of them as our subjects? Is it
not the interruption they now give to this pleasure, is it not the opposition
they make to our pride, and not any injury they have done us, that is the
secret spring of our present animosity against them? I wish all in this kingdom
would examine themselves carefully on this point. Perhaps they might find that
they have not known what spirit they are of. Perhaps they would become sensible
that it was a spirit of domination more than a regard to the true interest of
this country that lately led so many of them, with such savage folly, to
address the throne for the slaughter of their brethren in America if they will
not submit to them and to make offers of their lives and fortunes for that
purpose. Indeed, I am persuaded that, were pride and the lust of dominion
exterminated from every heart among us and the humility of Christians infused
in their room, this quarrel would be soon ended.

Secondly, another reason for believing that this is a contest for power only
is that our ministers have frequently declared that their object is not to draw
a revenue from America, and that many of those who are warmest for continuing
it represent the American trade as of no great consequence.

But what deserves particular consideration here is that this is a contest
from which no advantages can possibly be derived. Not a revenue, for the
provinces of America, when desolated, will afford no revenue, or, if they
should, the expence of subduing them and keeping them in subjection will much
exceed that revenue. Not any of the advantages of trade, for it is a folly,
next to insanity, to think trade can be promoted by impoverishing our customers
and fixing in their minds an everlasting abhorrence of us. It remains,
therefore, that this war can have no other object than the extension of power.
Miserable reflection! To sheath our swords in the bowels of our brethren and
spread misery and ruin among a happy people for no other end than to oblige
them to acknowledge our supremacy. How horrid! This is the cursed ambition that
led a Caesar and an Alexander, and many other mad conquerors, to attack
peaceful communities and to lay waste the earth.

But a worse principle than even this influences some among us. Pride and the
love of dominion are principles hateful enough, but blind resentment and the
desire of revenge are infernal principles. And these, I am afraid, have no
small share at present in guiding our public conduct. One cannot help indeed
being astonished at the virulence with which some speak on the present occasion
against the Colonies. For what have they done? Have they crossed the ocean and
invaded us? Have they attempted to take from us the fruits of our labour and to
overturn that form of government which we hold so sacred? This cannot be
pretended. On the contrary, this is what we have done to them. We have
transported ourselves to their peaceful retreats and employed our fleets and
armies to stop up their ports, to destroy their commerce, to seize their
effects, and to bum their towns. Would we but let them alone and suffer them to
enjoy in security their property and governments, instead of disturbing us they
would thank and bless us. And yet it is we who imagine ourselves ill-used. The
truth is, we expected to find them a cowardly rabble who would lie quietly at
our feet and they have disappointed us. They have risen in their own defence
and repelled force by force. They deny the plenitude of our power over them and
insist upon being treated as free communities. It is this that has provoked us
and kindled our governors into rage.

I hope I shall not here be understood to intimate that all who promote this
war are actuated by these principles. Some, I doubt not, are influenced by no
other principle than a regard to what they think the just authority of this
country over its colonies and to the unity and indivisibility of the British
Empire. I wish such could be engaged to enter thoroughly into the enquiry which
has been the subject of the first pan of this pamphlet and to consider
particularly how different a thing maintaining the authority of government
within a state is from maintaining the authority of one people over another
already happy in the enjoyment of a government of their own. I wish farther
they would consider that the desire of maintaining authority is warrantable
only as far as it is the means of promoting some end and doing some good, and
that, before we resolve to spread famine and fire through a country in order to
make it acknowledge our authority, we ought to be assured that great advantages
will arise not only to ourselves, but to the country we wish to conquer. That
from the present contest no advantage to ourselves can arise has been already
shewn, and will presently be shewn more at large. That no advantage to the
Colonies can arise from it need not, I hope, be shewn. It has however been
asserted that even their good is intended by this war. Many of us are persuaded
that they will be much happier under our government than under any government
of their own, and that their liberties will be safer when held for them by us
than when trusted in their own hands. How kind is it thus to take upon us the
trouble of judging for them what is most. for their happiness? Nothing can be
kinder except the resolution we have formed to exterminate them if they will
not submit to our judgment. What strange language have I sometimes heard? By an
armed force we are now endeavouring to destroy the laws and governments of
America, and yet I have heard it said that we are endeavouring to support law
and government there. We are insisting upon our right to levy contributions
upon them and to maintain this right we are bringing upon them all the miseries
a people can endure, and yet it is asserted that we mean nothing but their
security and happiness.

But I have wandered a little from the point I intended principally to insist
upon in this section, which is, 'the folly, in respect of policy, of the
measures which have brought on this contest, and its pernicious and fatal
tendency'.

The following observations will, I believe, abundantly prove this.

First, there are points which are likely always to suffer by discussion. Of
this kind are most points of authority and prerogative and the best policy is
to avoid, as much as possible, giving any occasion for calling them in
question.

The Colonies were at the beginning of this reign in the habit of
acknowledging our authority and of allowing us as much power over them as our
interest required and more, in some instances, than we could reasonably claim.
This habit they would have retained, and had we, instead of imposing new
burdens upon them and increasing their restraints, studied to promote their
commerce and to grant them new indulgences, they would have been always growing
more attached to us. Luxury and, together with it, their dependence upon us,
and our influence in their assemblies, would have increased till in time
perhaps they would have become as corrupt as ourselves; and we might have
succeeded to our wishes in establishing our authority over them. But, happily
for them, we have chosen a different course. By exertions of authority which
have alarmed them they have been put upon examining into the grounds of all our
claims and forced to give up their luxuries and to seek all their resources
within themselves. And the issue is likely to prove the loss of all our
authority over them and of all the advantages connected with it. So little do
men in power sometimes know how to preserve power and so remarkably does the
desire of extending dominion sometimes destroy it. Mankind are naturally
disposed to continue in subjection to that mode of government, be it what it
will, under which they have been born and educated. Nothing rouses them into
resistance but gross abuse or some particular oppressions out of the road to
which they have been used. And he who will examine the history of the world
will find there has generally been more reason for complaining that they have
been too patient than that they have been turbulent and rebellious.

Our governors, ever since I can remember, have been jealous that the
Colonies, some time or other, would throw off their dependence. This jealousy
was not founded on any of their acts or declarations. They have always, while
at peace with us, disclaimed any such design, and they have continued to
disclaim it since they have been at war with us. I have reason, indeed, to
believe that independency is, even at this moment, generally dreaded among them
as a calamity to which they are in danger of being driven in order to avoid a
greater. The jealousy, I have mentioned, was, however, natural and betrayed a
secret opinion that the subjection in which they were held was more than we
could expect them always to endure. In such circumstances, all possible care
should have been taken to give them no reason for discontent and to preserve
them in subjection by keeping in that line of conduct to which custom had
reconciled them, or, at least, never deviating from it except with great
caution, and, particularly, by avoiding all direct attacks on their property
and legislations. Had we done this, the different interests of so many states
scattered over a vast continent, joined to our own prudence and moderation,
would have enabled us to maintain them in dependence for ages to come. But
instead of this, how have we acted? It is in truth too evident that our whole
conduct, instead of being directed by that sound policy and foresight which in
such circumstances were absolutely necessary, has been nothing (to say the best
of it) but a series of the blindest rigour followed by retraction, of violence
followed by concession, of mistake, weakness and inconsistency. A recital of a
few facts within every body's recollection, will fully prove this.

In the 6th of George the Second, an act was passed for imposing certain
duties on all foreign spirits, molasses and sugars imported into the
plantations.[g] In this act the
duties imposed are said to be given and granted by the Parliament to the King,
and this is the first American act in which these words have been used. But
notwithstanding this, as the act had the appearance of being only a regulation
of trade, the Colonies submitted to it and a small direct revenue was drawn by
it from them. In the 4th of the present reign, many alterations were made in
this act, with the declared purpose of making provision for raising a revenue
in America.[h] This alarmed the
Colonies and produced discontents and remonstrances which might have convinced
our rulers this was tender ground on which it became them to tread very gently.
There is, however, no reason to doubt but in time they would have sunk into a
quiet submission to this revenue act as being at worst only the exercise of a
power which then they seem not to have thought much of contesting, I mean, the
power of taxing them externally. But before they had time to cool, a worse
provocation was given them and the Stamp Act[i] was passed. This being an attempt to tax
them internally, and a direct attack on their property by a power which would
not suffer itself to be questioned, which eased itself by loading them, and to
which it was impossible to fix any bounds, they were thrown at once, from one
end of the continent to the other, into resistance and rage. Government,
dreading the consequences, gave way and the Parliament (upon a change of
ministry) repealed the Stamp Act without requiring from them any recognition of
its authority, or doing any more to preserve its dignity than asserting, by the
declaratory law, that it was possessed of full power and authority to make laws
to bind them in all cases whatever. Upon this, peace was restored, and, had no
farther attempts of the same kind been made, they would undoubtedly have
suffered us (as the people of Ireland have done) to enjoy quietly our
declaratory law. They would have recovered their former habits of subjection,
and our connexion with them might have continued an increasing source of our
wealth and glory. But the spirit of despotism and avarice, always blind and
restless, soon broke forth again. The scheme for drawing a revenue from
America, by parliamentary taxation, was resumed and in a little more than a
year after the repeal of the Stamp Act, when all was peace, a third act was
passed, imposing duties payable in America on tea, paper, glass, painters'
colours, etc.[j] This, as might
have been expected, revived all the former heats and the Empire was a second
time threatened with the most dangerous commotions. Government receded again
and the Parliament (under another change of ministry) repealed all the
obnoxious duties except that upon tea. This exception was made in order to
maintain a shew of dignity. But it was, in reality, sacrificing safety to pride
and leaving a splinter in the wound to produce a gangrene. For some time,
however, this relaxation answered its intended purposes. Our commercial
intercourse with the Colonies was again recovered and they avoided nothing but
that tea which we had excepted in our repeal. In this state would things have
remained, and even tea would perhaps in time have been gradually admitted, had
not the evil genius of Britain stepped forth once more to embroil the Empire.

The East India Company having fallen under difficulties, partly in
consequence of the loss of the American market for tea, a scheme was formed for
assisting them by an attempt to recover that market. With this view an act was
passed to enable them to export their tea to America free of all duties here,
and subject only to 3d per pound duty payable in America. It was to be offered
at a low price and it was expected the consequence would prove that the
Colonies would be tempted to buy it, a precedent gained for taxing them, and at
the same time the company relieved. Ships were, therefore, fitted out and large
cargoes sent. The snare was too gross to escape the notice of the Colonies.
They saw it and spurned at it. They refused to admit the tea and at Boston some
persons in disguise threw it into the sea. Had our governors in this case
satisfied themselves with requiring a compensation from the province for the
damage done, there is no doubt but it would have been granted. Or had they
proceeded no farther in the infliction of punishment than stopping up the port
and destroying the trade of Boston till compensation was made, the province
might possibly have submitted and a sufficient saving would have been gained
for the honour of the nation. But having hitherto proceeded without wisdom they
observed now no bounds in their resentment. To the Boston Port Bill[k] was added a bill[l] which destroyed the chartered government
of the province, a bill[m] which
withdrew from the jurisdiction of the province persons who in particular cases
should commit murder, and the Quebec Bill. At the same time a strong body of
troops was stationed at Boston to enforce obedience to their bills.

All who knew any thing of the temper of the Colonies saw that the effect of
this sudden accumulation of vengeance would probably be not intimidating but
exasperating them and driving them into a general revolt. But our ministers had
different apprehensions. They believed that the malecontents in the Colony of
Massachusett's were a small party, headed by a few factious men, that the
majority of the people would take the side of government as soon as they saw a
force among them capable of supporting them, that, at worst, the Colonies in
general would never make a common cause with this province, and that the issue
would prove, in a few months, order, tranquility and submission. Every one of
these apprehensions was falsified by the events that followed.

When the bills I have mentioned came to be carried into execution, the whole
province was thrown into confusion. Their courts of justice were shut up, and
all government was dissolved. The commander in chief found it necessary to
fortify himself in Boston, and the other Colonies immediately resolved to make
a common cause with this Colony.

Disappointed by these consequences, our ministers took fright. Once more
they made an effort to retreat, but indeed the most ungracious one that can
well be imagined. A proposal was sent to the Colonies called Conciliatory, and
the substance of which was, that if any of them would raise such sums as should
be demanded of them by taxing themselves, the Parliament would forbear to tax
them. It will be scarcely believed, hereafter, that such a proposal would be
thought conciliatory. It was only telling them, 'If you will tax yourselves by
our order, we will save ourselves the trouble of taxing you.' They received the
proposal as an insult, and rejected it with disdain.

At the time this concession was transmitted to America, open hostilities
were not begun. In the sword our ministers thought they had still a resource
which would immediately settle all disputes. They considered the people of
New-England as nothing but a mob, who would be soon routed and forced into
obedience. It was even believed that a few thousands of our army might march
through all America, and make all quiet wherever they went. Under this
conviction our ministers did not dread urging the Province of Massachusett's
Bay into rebellion, by ordering the army to seize their stores and to take up
some of their leading men. The attempt was made. The people fled immediately to
arms and repelled the attack. A considerable part of the flower of the British
army has been destroyed. Some of our best generals and the bravest of our
troops are now disgracefully and miserably imprisoned at Boston. A horrid civil
war is commenced and the Empire is distracted and convulsed.

Can it be possible to think with patience of the policy that has brought us
into these circumstances? Did ever Heaven punish the vices of a people more
severely by darkening their counsels? How great would be our happiness could we
now recall former times and return to the policy of the last reign? But those
times are gone. I will, however, beg leave for a few moments to look back to
them and to compare the ground we have left with that on which we find
ourselves. This must be done with deep regret, but it forms a necessary part of
my present design.

In those times our Colonies, foregoing every advantage which they might
derive from trading with foreign nations, consented to send only to us whatever
it was for our interest to receive from them and to receive only from us
whatever it was for our interest to send to them. They gave up the power of
making sumptuary laws and exposed themselves to all the evils of an increasing
and wasteful luxury, because we were benefited by vending among them the
materials of it. The iron with which providence had blessed their country, they
were required by laws, in which they acquiesced, to transport hither that our
people might be maintained by working it for them into nails, ploughs, axes,
etc. And, in several instances, even one Colony was not allowed to supply any
neighbouring Colonies with commodities which could be conveyed to them from
hence. But they yielded much farther. They consented that we should have the
appointment of one branch of their legislature. By recognizing as their King, a
King resident among us and under our influence, they gave us a negative on all
their laws. By allowing an appeal to us in their civil disputes, they gave us
likewise the ultimate determination of all civil causes among them. In short,
they allowed us every power we could desire, except that of taxing them, and
interfering in their internal legislations. And they had admitted precedents
which, even in these instances, gave us no inconsiderable authority over them.
By purchasing our goods they paid our taxes, and by allowing us to regulate
their trade in any manner we thought most for our advantage they enriched our
merchants and helped us to bear our growing burdens. They fought our battles
with us. They gloried in their relation to us. All their gains centered among
us and they always spoke of this country and looked to it as their home.

Such was the state of things. What is it now?

Not contented with a degree of power sufficient to satisfy any reasonable
ambition, we have attempted to extend it. Not contented with drawing from them
a large revenue indirectly, we have endeavoured to procure one directly by an
authoritative seizure, and in order to gain a pepper-corn in this way have
chosen to hazard millions, acquired by the peaceable intercourse of trade. Vile
policy! What a scourge is government so conducted? Had we never deserted our
old ground, had we nourished and favoured America with a view to commerce
instead of considering it as a country to be governed, had we, like a liberal
and wise people, rejoiced to see a multitude of free states branched forth from
ourselves, all enjoying independent legislatures similar to our own, had we
aimed at binding them to us only by the tyes of affection and interest, and
contented ourselves with a moderate power rendered durable by being lenient and
friendly, an umpire in their differences, an aid to them in improving their own
free governments, and their common bulwark against the assaults of foreign
enemies, had this, I say, been our policy and temper, there is nothing so great
or happy that we might not have expected. With their increase our strength
would have increased. A growing surplus in the revenue might have been gained
which, invariably applied to the gradual discharge of the national debt, would
have delivered us from the ruin with which it threatens us. The liberty of
America might have preserved our liberty, and, under the direction of a patriot
king or wise minister, proved the means of restoring to us our almost lost
constitution. Perhaps, in time, we might also have been brought to see the
necessity of carefully watching and restricting our paper-credit. And thus we
might have regained safety and, in union with our Colonies, have been more than
a match for every enemy and risen to a situation of honour and dignity never
before known amongst mankind. But I am forgetting myself. Our Colonies are
likely to be lost for ever. Their love is turned into hatred and their respect
for our government into resentment and abhorrence. We shall see more distinctly
what a calamity this is, and the observations I have now made will be confirmed
by attending to the following facts.

Our American Colonies, particularly the northern ones, have been for some
time in the happiest state of society or in that middle state of civilization,
between its first rude and its last refined and corrupt state. Old countries
consist, generally, of three classes of people, a gentry; a yeomanry; and a
peasantry. The Colonies consist only of a body of yeomanry[4] supported by agriculture, and all independent and
nearly upon a level; in consequence of which, joined to a boundless extent of
country, the means of subsistence are procured without difficulty and the
temptations to wickedness are so inconsiderable that executions are seldom
known among them. From hence arises an encouragement to population so great
that in some of the colonies they double their own number in fifteen years, in
others in eighteen years, and in all, taken one with another, in twenty-five
years. Such an increase was, I believe, never before known. It demonstrates
that they must live at their ease and be free from those cares, oppressions,
and diseases which depopulate and ravage luxurious states.

With the population of the Colonies has increased their trade; but much
faster, on account of the gradual introduction of luxury among them. In 1723
the exports to Pensylvania were £16,000. In 1742 they were £75,295.
In 1757 they were increased to £268,426, and in 1773 to half a million.

The exports to all the Colonies in 1744 were £640,114. In 1758 they
were increased to £1,832,948 and in 1773 to three millions. And the
probability is that, had it not been for the discontents among the Colonies
since the year 1764, our trade with them would have been this year double to
what it was in 1773, and that in a few years more, it would not have been
possible for the whole kingdom, though consisting only of manufacturers, to
supply the American demand.

This trade, it should be considered, was not only thus an increasing trade,
but it was a trade in which we had no rivals, a trade certain, constant, and
uninterrupted, and which, by the shipping employed in it, and the naval stores
supplied by it, contributed greatly to the support of that navy which is our
chief national strength. Viewed in these lights it was an object unspeakably
important. But it will appear still more so if we view it in its connexions and
dependencies. It is well known that our trade with Africa and the West-Indies
cannot easily subsist without it. And, upon the whole, it is undeniable that it
has been one of the main springs of our opulence and splendour and that we
have, in a great measure, been indebted to it for our ability to bear a debt so
much heavier than that which, fifty years ago, the wisest men thought would
necessarily sink us.

This inestimable prize and all the advantages connected with America, we are
now throwing away. Experience alone can shew what calamities must follow. It
will indeed be astonishing if this kingdom can bear such a loss without
dreadful consequences. These consequences have been amply represented by others
and it is needless to enter into any account of them. At the time we shall be
feeling them: the Empire dismembered, the blood of thousands shed in an
unrighteous quarrel, our strength exhausted, our merchants breaking, our
manufacturers starving, our debts increasing, the revenues sinking, the funds
tottering, and all the miseries of a public bankruptcy impending. At such a
crisis should our natural enemies, eager for our ruin, seize the opportunity.
The apprehension is too distressing. Let us view this subject in another light.

On this occasion, particular attention should be given to the present
singular situation of this kingdom. This is a circumstance of the utmost
importance and, as I am afraid it is not much considered, I will beg leave to
give a distinct account of it.

At the Revolution, the specie of the kingdom amounted, according to
Davenant's account, to eighteen millions and a half. From the accession to the
year 1772 there were coined at the mint near 29 millions of gold; and in ten
years only of this time or from January 1759 to January 1769 there were coined
eight millions and a half. But it has appeared lately that the gold specie now
left in the kingdom is no more than about twelve millions and a half. Not so
much as half a million of silver specie has been coined these sixty years, and
it cannot be supposed that the quantity of it now in circulation exceeds two or
three millions. The whole specie of the kingdom, therefore, is probably at this
time about fifteen millions. Of this some millions must be hoarded at the Bank.
Our circulating specie, therefore, appears to be decreased. But our wealth, or
the quantity of money in the kingdom, is greatly increased. This is paper to a
vast amount, issued in almost every comer of the kingdom, and, particularly, by
the Bank of England. While this paper maintains its credit it answers all the
purposes of specie, and is in all respects the same with money.

Specie represents some real value in goods or commodities. On the contrary,
paper represents immediately nothing but specie. It is a promise or obligation
which the emitter brings himself under to pay a given sum in coin, and it owes
its currency to the credit of the emitter, or to an opinion that he is able to
make good his engagement, and that the sum specified may be received upon being
demanded. Paper, therefore, represents coin, and coin represents real value.
That is, the one is a sign of wealth. The other is the sign of that sign. But
farther, coin is an universal sign of wealth, and will procure it every where.
It will bear any alarm, and stand any shock. On the contrary, paper, owing its
currency to opinion, has only a local and imaginary value. It can stand no
shock. It is destroyed by the approach of danger or even the suspicion of
danger.

In short, coin is the basis of our paper credit, and were it either all
destroyed, or were only the quantity of it reduced beyond a certain limit, the
paper circulation of the kingdom would sink at once. But, were our paper
destroyed, the coin would not only remain but rise in value in proportion to
the quantity of paper destroyed.

From this account it follows that as far as, in any circumstances, specie is
not to be procured in exchange for paper, it represents nothing, and is worth
nothing. The specie of this kingdom is inconsiderable compared with the amount
of the paper circulating in it. This is generally believed and, therefore, it
is natural to enquire how its currency is supported. The answer is easy. It is
supported in the same manner with all other bubbles. Were all to demand specie
in exchange for their notes payment could not be made, but at the same time
that this is known every one trusts that no alarm producing such a demand will
happen, while he holds the paper he is possessed of, and that if it should
happen, he will stand a chance for being first paid, and this makes him easy.
But let any events happen which threaten danger and every one will become
diffident. A run will take place and a bankruptcy follow.

This is an account of what has often happened in private credit. And it is
also an account of what will (if no change of measures takes place) happen some
time or other in public credit. The description I have given of our
paper-circulation implies that nothing can be more delicate or hazardous. It is
an immense fabrick with its head in the clouds that is continually trembling
with every adverse blast and every fluctuation of trade and which, like the
baseless fabrick of a vision, may in a moment vanish, and leave no wreck
behind. The destruction of a few books at the Bank, an improvement in the art
of forgery, the landing of a body of French troops on our coasts, insurrections
threatening a revolution in government, or any events that should produce a
general panic, however groundless, would at once annihilate it and leave us
without any other medium of traffic than a quantity of specie not much more
than the money now drawn from the public by the taxes. It would, therefore,
become impossible to pay the taxes. The revenue would fail. Near a hundred and
forty millions of property would be destroyed. The whole frame of government
would fall to pieces, and a state of nature would take place. What a dreadful
situation? It has never had a parallel among mankind, except at one time in
France after the establishment of the Royal Mississippi Bank. In 1720 this bank
broke and, after involving for some time the whole kingdom in a golden dream,
spread through it in one day desolation and ruin. The distress attending such
an event in this free country would be greater than it was in France. Happily
for that kingdom they have shot this gulph. Paper-credit has never since
recovered itself there and their circulating cash consists now all of solid
coin amounting, according to the lowest account, to no less a sum than 1500
millions of livres, or near 67 millions of pounds sterling. This gives them
unspeakable advantages and, joined to that quick reduction of their debts which
is inseparable from their nature, places them on a ground of safety which we
have reason to admire and envy.

These are subjects on which I should have chosen to be silent, did I not
think it necessary that this country should be apprized and warned of the
danger which threatens it. This danger is created chiefly by the national debt.
High taxes are necessary to support a great public debt and a large supply of
cash is necessary to support high taxes. This cash we owe to our paper and, in
proportion to our paper, must be the productiveness of our taxes. King
William's wars drained the kingdom of its specie. This sunk the revenue and
distressed government. In 1694 the Bank was established and the kingdom was
provided with a substitute for specie. The taxes became again productive. The
revenue rose and government was relieved. Ever since that period our paper and
taxes have been increasing together and supporting one another; and one reason,
undoubtedly, of the late increase in the productiveness of our taxes has been
the increase of our paper.

Was there no public debt, there would be no occasion for half the present
taxes. Our paper circulation might be reduced. The balance of trade would turn
in our favour. Specie would flow in upon us. The quantity of property destroyed
by a failure of paper-credit (should it in such circumstances happen) would be
140 millions less, and, therefore, the shock attending it would be tolerable.
But in the present state of things whenever any calamity or panic shall produce
such a failure, the shock attending it will be intolerable. May heaven soon
raise up for us some great statesman who shall see these things and enter into
effectual measures, if not now too late, for extricating and preserving us.

Public banks are, undoubtedly, attended with great conveniencies. But they
also do great harm, and, if their emissions are not restrained and conducted
with great wisdom, they may prove the most pernicious of all institutions, not
only by substituting fictitious for real wealth, by increasing luxury, by
raising the prices of provisions, by concealing an unfavourable balance of
trade, and by rendering a kingdom incapable of bearing any internal tumults or
external attacks without the danger of a dreadful convulsion, but,
particularly, by becoming instruments in the hands of ministers of state to
increase their influence, to lessen their dependence on the people, and to keep
up a delusive shew of public prosperity, when perhaps ruin may be near. There
is, in truth, nothing that a government may not do with such a mine at its
command as a public bank while it can maintain its credit, nor, therefore, is
there any thing more likely to be improperly and dangerously used. But to
return to what may be more applicable to our own state at present.

Among the causes that may produce a failure of paper-credit there are two
which the present quarrel with America calls upon us particularly to consider.
The first is 'an unfavourable balance of trade'. This, in proportion to the
degree in which it takes place, must turn the course of foreign exchange
against us, raise the price of bullion, and carry off our specie. The danger to
which this would expose us is obvious, and it has been much increased by the
new coinage of the gold specie which begun in 1773. Before this coinage, the
greatest part of our gold coin being light, but the same in currency as if it
had been heavy, always remained in the kingdom. But, being now nearly of full
weight, whenever a wrong balance of foreign trade alters the course of
exchange, and gold in coin becomes of less value than in bullion, there is
reason to fear that it will be melted down in such great quantities and
exported so fast as in a little time to leave none behind. The consequence of
which must prove that the whole superstructure of paper-credit, now supported
by it, will break down. The only remedy, in such circumstances, is an increase
of coinage at the mint. But this will operate too slowly, and, by raising the
price of bullion, will only increase the evil. It is the Bank that at such a
time must be the immediate sufferer, for it is from thence that those who want
coin for any purpose will always draw it.

For many years before 1773 the price of gold in bullion had been from 2 or 3
or 4 per cent higher than in coin. This was a temptation to melt down and
export the coin which could not be resisted. Hence arose a demand for it on the
Bank, and, consequently, the necessity of purchasing bullion at a loss for a
new coinage. But the more coin the Bank procured in this way, the lower its
price became in comparison with that of bullion, and the faster it vanished,
and, consequently, the more necessary it became to coin again, and the greater
loss fell upon the Bank. Had things continued much longer in this train, the
consequences might have proved very serious. I am by no means sufficiently
informed to be able to assign the causes which have produced the change that
happened in 1772. But, without doubt, the state of things that took place
before that year must be expected to return. The fluctuations of trade, in its
best state, render this unavoidable. But the contest with our Colonies has a
tendency to bring it on soon and to increase unspeakably the distress attending
it. All know that the balance of trade with them is greatly in our favour, and
that this balance is paid partly by direct remittances of bullion and partly by
circuitous remittances through Spain, Portugal, Italy, etc. which diminish the
balance against us with these countries. During the last year they have been
employed in paying their debts without adding to them, and their exportations
and remittances for that purpose have contributed to render the general balance
of trade more favourable to us, and also (in conjunction with the late
operations of the Bank) to keep up our funds. These remittances are now ceased
and a few years will determine, if this contest goes on, how far we can sustain
such a loss without suffering the consequences I have described.

The second event, ruinous to our paper circulation, which may arise from our
rupture with America, is a deficiency in the revenue. As a failure of our paper
would destroy the revenue, so a failure of the revenue, or any considerable
diminution of it, would destroy our paper. The Bank is the support of our paper
and the support of the Bank is the credit of government. Its principal
securities are a capital of eleven millions lent to government and money
continually advanced to a vast amount on the land-tax and malt-tax, sinking
fund, exchequer bills, navy bills, etc. Should, therefore, deficiencies in the
revenue bring government under any difficulties, all these securities would
lose their value, and the Bank and Government, and all private and public
credit, would fail together. Let any one here imagine what would probably
follow were it but suspected by the public in general that the taxes were so
fallen as not to produce enough to pay the interest of the public debts,
besides bearing the ordinary expences of the nation, and that, in order to
supply the deficiency and to hide the calamity, it had been necessary in any
one year to anticipate the taxes and to borrow of the Bank. In such
circumstances I can scarcely doubt but an alarm would spread of the most
dangerous tendency. The next foreign war, should it prove half as expensive as
the last, will probably occasion such a deficiency and bring our affairs to
that crisis towards which they have been long tending. But the war with America
has a greater tendency to do this, and the reason is that it affects our
resources more and is attended more with the danger of internal disturbances.

Some have made the proportion of our trade depending on North America to be
near one half. A moderate computation makes it a third. Let it, however, be
supposed to be only a fourth. I will venture to say this is a proportion of our
foreign trade the loss of which, when it comes to be felt, will be found
insupportable. In the article of tobacco alone it will cause a deduction from
the customs of at least £300,000 per ann., including the duties paid on
foreign commodities purchased by the exportation of tobacco. Let the whole
deduction from the revenue be supposed to be only half a million. This alone is
more than the kingdom can at present bear, without having recourse to lotteries
and the land-tax at 4 shillings in order to defray the common and necessary
expences of peace. But to this must be added a deduction from the produce of
the excises in consequence of the increase of the poor, of the difficulties of
our merchants and manufacturers, of less national wealth, and a retrenchment of
luxury. There is no possibility of knowing to what these deductions may amount.
When the evils producing them begin, they will proceed rapidly and they may end
in a general wreck before we are aware of any danger.

In order to give a clearer view of the subject, I will in an Appendix, state
particularly the national expenditure and income for eleven years, from 1764 to
1774. From that account it will appear that the money drawn every year from the
public by the taxes does not fall greatly short of a sum equal to the whole
specie of the kingdom, and that, notwithstanding the late increase in the
productiveness of the taxes, the whole surplus of the national income has not
exceeded £338,759 per ann. This is a surplus so inconsiderable as to be
scarcely sufficient to guard against the deficiencies arising from the common
fluctuations of foreign trade and of home consumption. It is nothing when
considered as the only fund we have for paying off a debt near 140 millions.
Had we continued in a state of profound peace, it could not have admitted of
any diminution. What then must follow, when one of the most profitable branches
of our trade is destroyed, when a third of the Empire is lost, when an addition
of many millions is made to the public debt, and when, at the same time perhaps
some millions are taken away from the revenue? I shudder at this prospect. A
kingdom on an edge so perilous should think of nothing but a retreat.

Sect. IV Of the Honour of the Nation as affected by the War with America

One of the pleas for continuing the contest with America is, 'that our
honour is engaged, and that we cannot now recede without the most humiliating
concessions'.

With respect to this it is proper to observe that a distinction should be
made between the nation and its rulers. It is melancholy that there should be
ever any reason for making such a distinction. A government is, or ought to be,
nothing but an institution for collecting and carrying into execution the will
of the people. But so far is this from being in general the fact that the
measures of government and the sense of the people are sometimes in direct
opposition to one another; nor does it often happen that any certain conclusion
can be drawn from the one to the other. I will not pretend to determine
whether, in the present instance, the dishonour attending a retreat would
belong to the nation at large or only to the persons in power who guide its
affairs. Be this as it will, no good argument can be drawn from it against
receding. The disgrace which may be implied in making concessions is nothing to
that of being the aggressors in an unrighteous quarrel, and dignity, in such
circumstances, consists in retracting freely and speedily. For (to adopt, on
this occasion, words which I have heard applied to this very purpose, in a
great assembly, by a peer to whom this kingdom has often looked as its
deliverer, and whose ill state of health at this awful moment of public danger
every friend to Britain must deplore) to adopt, I say, the words of this great
man, 'Rectitude is dignity, oppression only is meanness, and justice, honour.'

I will add that prudence, no less than true honour, requires us to retract.
For the time may come when, if it is not done voluntarily, we may be obliged to
do it and find ourselves under a necessity of granting that to our distresses
which we now deny to equity and humanity and the prayers of America. The
possibility of this appears plainly from the preceding pages; and should it
happen, it will bring upon us disgrace indeed, disgrace greater than the worst
rancour can wish to see accumulated on a kingdom already too much dishonoured.
Let the reader think here what we are doing. A nation, once the protector of
liberty in distant countries and the scourge of tyranny, exchanged into an
enemy to liberty, engaged in endeavouring to reduce to servitude its own
brethren. A great and enlightened nation, not content with a controuling power
over millions of people which gave it every reasonable advantage, insisting
upon such a supremacy over them as would leave them nothing they could call
their own, and carrying desolation and death among them for disputing it. What
can be more ignominious? How have we felt for the brave Corsicans in their
struggle with the Genoese, and afterwards with the French government? Did Genoa
or France want more than an absolute command over their property and
legislations or the power of binding them in all cases whatsoever? The Genoese,
finding it difficult to keep them in subjection, ceded them to the French. All
such cessions of one people by another are disgraceful to human nature. But if
our claims are just, may not we also, if we please, cede the Colonies to
France? There is, in truth, no other difference between these two cases than
that the Corsicans were not descended from the people who governed them but
that the Americans are.

There are some who seem to be sensible that the authority of one country
over another cannot be distinguished from the servitude of one country to
another, and that unless different communities, as well as different parts of
the same community, are united by an equal representation, all such authority
is inconsistent with the principles of civil liberty. But they except the case
of the Colonies and Great Britain because the Colonies are communities which
have branched forth from, and which therefore, as they think, belong to
Britain. Had the colonies been communities of foreigners, over whom we wanted
to acquire dominion or even to extend a dominion before acquired, they are
ready to admit that their resistance would have been just. In my opinion this
is the same with saying that the Colonies ought to be worse off than the rest
of mankind because they are our own brethren.

Again, the United Provinces of Holland were once subject to the Spanish
monarchy; but, provoked by a violation of their charters, by levies of money
without their consent, by the introduction of Spanish troops among them, by
innovations in their antient modes of government, and the rejection of their
petitions they were driven to that resistance which we and all the world have
ever since admired, and which has given birth to one of the greatest and
happiest republics that ever existed. Let any one read also the history of the
war which the Athenians, from a thirst of empire, made on the Syracusans in
Sicily, a people derived from the same origin with them, and let him, if he
can, avoid rejoicing in the defeat of the Athenians.

Let him, likewise, read the account of the social war among the Romans. The
allied states of Italy had fought the battles of Rome, and contributed by their
valour and treasure to its conquests and grandeur. They claimed, therefore, the
rights of Roman citizens, and a share with them in legislation. The Romans,
disdaining to make those their fellow-citizens whom they had always looked upon
as their subjects, would not comply and a war followed, the most horrible in
the annals of mankind, which ended in the ruin of the Roman Republic. The
feelings of every Briton in this case must force him to approve the conduct of
the Allies and to condemn the proud and ungrateful Romans.

But not only is the present contest with America thus disgraceful to us,
because inconsistent with our own feelings in similar cases, but also because
condemned by our own practice in former times. The Colonies are persuaded that
they are fighting for liberty. We see them sacrificing to this persuasion every
private advantage. If mistaken, and though guilty of irregularities, they
should be pardoned by a people whose ancestors have given them so many examples
of similar conduct, England should venerate the attachment to liberty amidst
all its excesses, and, instead of indignation or scorn, it would be most
becoming them, in the present instance, to declare their applause and to say to
the Colonies, 'We excuse your mistakes. We admire your spirit. It is the spirit
that has more than once saved ourselves. We aspire to no dominion over you. We
understand the rights of men too well to think of taking from you the
inestimable privilege of governing yourselves, and, instead of employing our
power for any such purpose, we offer it to you as a friendly and guardian power
to be a mediator in your quarrels, a protection against your enemies, and an
aid to you in establishing a plan of liberty that shall make you great and
happy. In return, we ask nothing but your gratitude and your commerce.'

This would be a language worthy of a brave and enlightened nation. But alas!
it often happens in the political world as it does in religion, that the people
who cry out most vehemently for liberty to themselves are the most unwilling to
grant it to others.

But farther, this war is disgraceful on account of the persuasion which led
to it and under which it has been undertaken. The general cry was last winter
that the people of New-England were a body of cowards who would at once be
reduced to submission by a hostile look from our troops. In this light were
they held up to public derision in both Houses of Parliament, and it was this
persuasion that, probably, induced a Nobleman of the first weight in the state
to recommend at the passing of the Boston Port Bill, coercive measures,
hinting, at the same time, that the appearance of hostilities would be
sufficient, and that all would soon be over, sine clade. Indeed no one
can doubt but that had it been believed some time ago that the people of
America were brave, more care would have been taken not to provoke them.

Again, the manner in which this war has been hitherto conducted renders it
still more disgraceful. English valour being thought insufficient to subdue the
Colonies, the laws and religion of France were established in Canada on purpose
to obtain the power of bringing upon them from thence an army of French
Papists. The wild Indians and their own slaves have been instigated to attack
them, and attempts have been made to gain the assistance of a large body of
Russians. With like views, German troops have been hired and the defence of our
forts and garrisons trusted in their hands.

These are measures which need no comment. The last of them, in particular,
having been carried into execution without the consent of parliament, threatens
us with imminent danger and shews that we are in the way to lose even the forms
of the constitution. If, indeed, our ministers can at any time, without leave,
not only send away the national troops, but introduce foreign troops in their
room, we lie entirely at mercy and we have everything to dread.

Sect. V Of the Probability of Succeeding in the War with America

Let us next consider how far there is a probability of succeeding in the
present war.

Our own people, being unwilling to enlist, and the attempts to procure
armies of Russians, Indians, and Canadians having miscarried, the utmost force
we can employ, including foreigners, does not exceed, if I am rightly informed,
40,000 effective men. This is the force that is to conquer half a million at
least, of determined men fighting on their own ground, within sight of their
houses and families, and for that sacred blessing of liberty, without which man
is a beast and government a curse. All history proves that in such a situation,
a handful is a match for millions.

In the Netherlands a few states, thus circumstanced, withstood, for a long
course of years the whole force of the Spanish monarchy when at its zenith; and
at last humbled its pride and emancipated themselves from its tyranny. The
citizens of Syracuse also, thus circumstanced, withstood the whole power of the
Athenians and almost ruined them. The same happened in the contest between the
house of Austria, and the cantons of Switzerland. There is in this case an
infinite difference between attacking and being attacked, between fighting to
destroy and fighting to preserve or acquire liberty. Were we, therefore,
capable of employing a land force against America equal to its own there would
be little probability of success. But to think of conquering that whole
continent with 30,000 or 40,000 men to be transported across the Atlantic and
fed from hence and incapable of being recruited after any defeat. This is
indeed a folly so great that language does not afford a name for it.

With respect to our naval force, could it sail at land as it does at sea,
much might be done with it, but as that is impossible, little or nothing can be
done with it which will not hurt ourselves more than the colonists. Such of
their maritime towns as they cannot guard against our fleets and have not been
already destroyed, they are determined either to give up to our resentment or
destroy themselves. The consequence of which will be that these towns will be
rebuilt in safer situations, and that we shall lose some of the principal
pledges by which we have hitherto held them in subjection. As to their trade,
having all the necessaries and chief conveniencies of life within themselves
they have no dependence upon it, and the loss of it will do them unspeakable
good, by preserving them from the evils of luxury and the temptations of wealth
and keeping them in that state of virtuous simplicity which is the greatest
happiness. I know that I am now speaking the sense of some of the wisest men in
America. It has long been their wish that Britain would shut up all their
ports. They will rejoice, particularly, in the last restraining act.[n] It might have happened that the people
would have grown weary of their agreements not to export or import. But this
act will oblige them to keep these agreements and confirm their unanimity and
zeal. It will also furnish them with a reason for confiscating the estates of
all the friends of our government among them and for employing their sailors,
who would have been otherwise idle, in making reprisals on British property.
Their ships, before useless, and consisting of many hundreds, will be turned
into ships of war and that attention, which they have hitherto confined to
trade, will be employed in fitting out a naval force for their own defence and
thus the way will be prepared for their becoming, much sooner than they would
otherwise have been, a great maritime power. This act of parliament, therefore,
crowns the folly of all our late measures. None who know me can believe me to
be disposed to superstition. Perhaps, however, I am not in the present instance
free from this weakness. I fancy I see in these measures something that cannot
be accounted for merely by human ignorance. I am inclined to think that the
hand of Providence is in them working to bring about some great ends. But this
leads me to one consideration more which I cannot help offering to the public
and which appears to me in the highest degree important.

In this hour of tremendous danger it would become us to turn our thoughts to
Heaven. This is what our brethren in the Colonies are doing. From one end of
North-America to the other they are fasting and praying. But what are we doing?
We are ridiculing them as fanatics, and scoffing at religion, We are running
wild after pleasure and forgetting every thing serious and decent at
masquerades. We are trafficking for boroughs, perjuring ourselves at elections,
and selling ourselves for places. Which side then is Providence likely to
favour?

In America we see a number of rising states in the vigour of youth, inspired
by the noblest of all passions, the passion for being free, and animated by
piety. Here we see an old state, great indeed, but inflated and irreligious,
enervated by luxury, encumbered with debts, and hanging by a thread. Can any
one look without pain to the issue? May we not expect calamities that shall
recover to reflection (perhaps to devotion) our libertines and atheists?

Is our cause such as gives us reason to ask God to bless it? Can we in the
face of Heaven declare, 'that we are not the aggressors in this war; and that
we mean by it, not to acquire or even preserve dominion for its own sake, not
conquest, or empire, or the gratification of resentment, but solely to deliver
ourselves from oppression, to gain reparation for injury; and to defend
ourselves against men who would plunder or kill us?' Remember, reader, whoever
thou an, that there are no other just causes of war and that blood spilled with
any other views must some time or other be accounted for. But not to expose
myself by saying more in this way, I will now beg leave to recapitulate some of
the arguments I have used and to deliver the feelings of my heart in a brief
but earnest address to my countrymen.

I am hearing it continually urged, 'Are they not our subjects?' The plain
answer is that they are not your subjects. The people of America are no more
the subjects of the people of Britain than the people of Yorkshire are the
subjects of the people of Middlesex. They are your fellow-subjects.

'But we are taxed, and why should they not be taxed?' You are taxed by
yourselves. They insist on the same privilege. They are taxed to support their
own governments and they help also to pay your taxes by purchasing your
manufactures and giving you a monopoly of their trade. Must they maintain two
governments? Must they submit to be triple taxed? Has your moderation in taxing
yourselves been such as encourages them to trust you with the power of taxing
them?

'But they will not obey the Parliament and the laws.' Say rather, they will
not obey your parliament and your laws. Their reason is, they have no voice in
your parliament. They have no share in making your laws.[5] 'Neither have most of us.' Then you so far want
liberty and your language is, 'We are not free, 'Why should they be free?' But
many of you have a voice in parliament. None of them have. All your freehold
land is represented. But not a foot of their land is represented. At worst,
therefore, you are only enslaved partially. Were they to submit they would be
enslaved totally. They are governed by parliaments chosen by themselves and by
legislatures similar to yours. Why will you disturb them in the enjoyment of a
blessing so invaluable? Is it reasonable to insist that your discretion alone
shall be their law, that they shall have no constitutions of government, except
such as you shall be pleased to give them, and no property except such as your
parliament shall be pleased to leave them? — What is your parliament? Is
there not a growing intercourse between it and the court? Does it awe ministers
of state as it once did? Instead of contending for a controuling power over the
government of America, should you not think more of watching and reforming your
own? Suppose the worst. Suppose, in opposition to all their own declarations
that the colonists are now aiming at independence. 'If they can subsist without
you', is it to be wondered at? Did there ever exist a community, or even an
individual, that would not do the same? 'If they cannot subsist without you',
let them alone. They will soon come back. 'If you cannot subsist without them',
reclaim them by kindness; engage them by moderation and equity. It is madness
to resolve to butcher them. This will make them detest and avoid you for ever.
Freemen are not to be governed by force, or dragooned into compliance. If
capable of bearing to be so ill treated, it is a disgrace to be connected with
them.

'If they can subsist without you and also you without them', the attempt to
subjugate them by confiscating their effects, burning their towns, and ravaging
their territories, is a wanton exertion of cruel ambition which, however common
it has been among mankind, deserves to be called by harder names than I chuse
to apply to it. Suppose such an attempt was to be succeeded. Would it not be a
fatal preparation for subduing yourselves? Would not the disposal of American
places and the distribution of an American revenue render that influence of the
crown irresistible which has already stabbed your liberties?

Turn your eyes to India. There more has been done than is now attempted in
America. There Englishmen, actuated by the love of plunder and the spirit of
conquest, have depopulated whole kingdoms and ruined millions of innocent
people by the most infamous oppression and rapacity. The justice of the nation
has slept over these enormities. Will the justice of heaven sleep? Are we not
now execrated on both sides of the globe?

With respect to the Colonists, it would be folly to pretend they are
faultless. They were running fast into our vices. But this quarrel gives them a
salutary check and it may be permitted on purpose to favour them, and in them
the rest of mankind; by making way for establishing, in an extensive country
possessed of every advantage, a plan of government and a growing power that
will astonish the world and under which every subject of human enquiry shall be
open to free discussion, and the friends of liberty in every quarter of the
globe find a safe retreat from civil and spiritual tyranny. I hope, therefore,
our brethren in America will forgive their oppressors. It is certain they know
not what they are doing.

Conclusion

Having said so much of the war with America, and particularly of the danger
with which it threatens us, it may be expected that I should propose some
method of escaping from this danger, and of restoring this once happy Empire to
a state of peace and security. Various plans of pacification have been proposed
and some of them by persons so distinguished by their rank and merit as to be
above my applause. But till there is more of a disposition to attend to such
plans they cannot, I am afraid, be of any great service. And there is too much
reason to apprehend that nothing but calamity will bring us to repentance and
wisdom. In order, however, to complete my design in these observations, I will
take the liberty to lay before the public the following sketch of one of the
plans just referred to, as it was opened before the holidays to the house of
Lords by the Earl of Shelburne, who while he held the seals of the Southern
Department, with the business of the colonies annexed, possessed their
confidence, without ever compromising the authority of this country, a
confidence which discovered itself by peace among themselves, and duty and
submission to the mother-country. I hope I shall not take an unwarranted
liberty if, on this occasion, I use his Lordship's own words as nearly as I
have been able to collect them.[o]

Meet the Colonies on their own ground, in the last petition from
Congress to the king. The surest as well as the most dignified mode of
proceeding for this country — Suspend all hostilities. Repeal the acts
which immediately distress America, namely, the last restraining act, the
charter act, the act for the more impartial administration of justice, and the
Quebec act. All the other acts (the custom house act, the post office act,
etc.) leave to a temperate revisal. There will be found much matter which both
countries may wish repealed. Some which can never be given up, the principle
being that regulation of trade for the common good of the Empire, which forms
our palladium. Other matter which is fair subject of mutual accommodation.
Prescribe[p] me most explicit
acknowledgement of your right of regulating commerce in its most extensive
sense if the petition and other public acts of the Colonies have not already by
their declaration and acknowledgements left it upon a sufficiently secure
foundation. Besides the power of regulating the general commerce of the Empire,
something further might be expected, provided a due and tender regard were had
to the means and abilities of the several provinces, as well as to those
fundamental, unalienable rights of Englishmen, which no father can surrender on
the part of his son, no representative on the part of his elector, no
generation on the part of the succeeding one: the right of judging not only of
the mode of raising, but the quantum, and the appropriation of such aids as
they shall grant. To be more explicit, the debt of England, without entering
into invidious distinctions how it came to be contracted, might be
acknowledged, the debt of every individual part of the whole Empire, Asia, as
well as America, included. Provided, that full security were held forth to them
that such free aids, together with the Sinking Fund (Great Britain contributing
her superior share), should not be left as the privy purse of the minister, but
be unalienably appropriated to the original intention of that fund, the
discharge of the debt, and that by an honest application of the whole fund, the
taxes might in time be lessened, and the price of our manufactures consequently
reduced, so that every contributory part might feel the returning benefit
— always supposing the laws of trade duly observed and enforced. The time
was, I am confident, and perhaps is, when these points might be obtained upon
me easy, the constitutional, and, therefore, the indispensible terms of an
exemption from parliamentary taxation, and an admission of the sacredness of
their charters instead of sacrificing their good humour, their affection, their
effectual aids, and the act of Navigation itself (which you are now in the
direct road to do) for a commercial quit-rent, or a barren metaphysical
chimaera. How long these ends may continue attainable, no man can tell. But if
no words are to be relied on except such as make against the Colonies, if
nothing is acceptable, except what is attainable by force, it only remains to
apply, what has been so often remarked of unhappy periods, Quos deus vult, etc.

These are sentiments and proposals of the last importance and I am very
happy in being able to give them to the public from so respectable an authority
as that of the distinguished peer I have mentioned, to whom, I know, this
kingdom, as well as America, is much indebted for his zeal to promote those
grand public points on which the preservation of liberty among us depends, and
for the firm opposition, which, jointly with many others (noblemen and
commoners of the first character and abilities) he has made to the present
measures.

Had such a plan as that now proposed been adopted a few months ago, I have
little doubt that a pacification would have taken place on terms highly
advantageous to this kingdom. In particular, it is probable that the Colonies
would have consented to grant an annual supply, which, increased by a saving of
the money now spent in maintaining troops among them and by contributions which
might have been gained from other parts of the Empire, would have formed a fund
considerable enough, if unalienably applied, to redeem the public debt; in
consequence of which, agreeably to Lord Shelburne's ideas, some of our worst
taxes might be taken off, and the Colonies would receive our manufactures
cheaper, our paper-currency might be restrained, our whole force would be free
to meet at any time foreign danger, the influence of the Crown would be
reduced, our Parliament would become less dependent, and the kingdom might,
perhaps, be restored to a situation of permanent safety and prosperity.

To conclude. An important revolution in the affairs of this kingdom seems to
be approaching. If ruin is not to be our lot, all that has been lately done
must be undone and new measures adopted. At that period, an opportunity (never
perhaps to be recovered, if lost) will offer itself for serving essentially
this country, as well as America, by putting the national debt into a fixed
course of payment, by subjecting to new regulations the administration of the
finances, and by establishing measures for exterminating corruption and
restoring the constitution. For my own part, if this is not to be the
consequence of any future changes in the ministry, and the system of
corruption, lately so much improved, is to go on, I think it totally
indifferent to the kingdom who are in, or who are out of power.

The following fact is of so much importance that I cannot satisfy myself
without laying it before the public. In a Committee of the American Congress,
in June 1775, a declaration was drawn up containing an offer to Great Britain,
'that the Colonies would not only continue to grant extraordinary aids in time
of war, but also, if allowed a free commerce, pay into the Sinking-Fund such a
sum annually for one hundred years, as should be more than sufficient in that
time, if faithfully applied, to extinguish all the present debts of Britain.
Or, provided this was not accepted, that, to remove the groundless jealousy of
Britain that the Colonies aimed at Independence and an abolition of the
Navigation Act, which, in truth, they had never intended, and also, to avoid
all future disputes about the right of making that and other acts for
regulating their commerce for the general benefit, they would enter into a
covenant with Britain that she should fully possess and exercise that right for
one hundred years to come'.

At the end of the preceding tract I have had the honour of laying before the
public the Earl of Shelburne's plan of pacification with the Colonies. In that
plan it is particularly proposed that the Colonies should grant an annual
supply to be carried to the Sinking Fund and unalienably appropriated to the
discharge of the public debt. It must give this excellent peer great pleasure
to learn, from this resolution, that even this part of his plan, as well as all
the other parts, would, most probably, have been accepted by the Colonies. For
though the resolution only offers the alternative of either a free trade with
extraordinary aids and an annual supply, or an exclusive trade confirmed and
extended, yet there can be little reason to doubt but that to avoid the
calamities of the present contest, both would have been consented to,
particularly, if, on our part, such a revisal of the laws of trade had been
offered as was proposed in Lord Shelburne's plan.

The preceding resolution was, I have said, drawn up in a Committee of the
Congress. But it was not entered in their minutes, a severe act of Parliament
happening to arrive at that time,[q] which determined them not to give the
sum proposed in it.

2. In Great Britain, consisting of near six
millions of inhabitants, 5,723 persons, most of them the lowest of the people,
elect one half of the House of Commons, and 364 chuse a ninth part. This may be
seen distinctly made out in [James Burgh], Political Disquisitions, [3
vols., London, 1774-5] vol. 1, Bk. 2, ch. 4, [pp. 39-54] a work of important
and useful instruction. [Burgh's claim, repeated by Price, that 254 members
were chosen by 5,723 votes, was misleading. What Burgh did was to compute for
each constituency a bare majority of those entitled to vote. Then he added
these numbers for 254 constituencies to give, not the number of those who had
actually voted for sitting members at any one election, but the lowest number
that could conceivably have secured their election. Price's use of these
figures is misleading in another respect. What Burgh's computation established
was not that half the members of the House of Commons, but half the greatest
number known to have been present at a debate at any one time, could
have been elected by 5,723 votes. At this time there were 558 members of the
Commons; the greatest number known to have been present at any one time at a
debate was 502, and that in 1741. Price's assertion that a ninth part of the
members for Great Britain were chosen by 364 votes is also inaccurate. What
Burgh claimed was that a ninth part of the members for England were
chosen by 364 votes.]

3. Montesquieu's Spirit of Laws, vol. I, bk
II, ch. xix. [The English translation of De I'esprit des lois by Thomas
Nugent was published under the title The Spirit of the Laws in London in
1750].

4. Except the negroes in the southern
Colonies, who probably will now either soon become extinct, or have their
condition changed into that of freemen. It is not the fault of the Colonies
that they have among them so many of these unhappy people. They have made laws
to prohibit the importation of them, but these laws have always had a negative
put upon them here because of their tendency to hurt our Negro trade.

5. 'I have no other notion of slavery, but
being bound by a law to which I do not consent.' See the case of Ireland's
being bound by acts of Parliament in England, stated by William Molyneux,...
[William Molyneux, The Case of Ireland's being bound by Acts of Parliament
in England, Stated (Dublin, 1698; London, 1770)]. In arguing against the
authority of Communities, and all people not incorporated, over one another; I
have confined my views to taxation and internal legislation. Mr. Molyneux
carried his views much farther, and denied the right of England to make any
laws, even to regulate the trade of Ireland.